


Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction

by thedeathlymarshmallows



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeathlymarshmallows/pseuds/thedeathlymarshmallows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the clones are attempting to come together as a loving albeit dysfunctional family but their differences threaten to make the task nigh on impossible (regardless of how much misplaced goodwill and determination is pumped into the endeavour).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an AUish story where the clones (Sarah, Helena, Alison, Cosima and Rachel - along with Delphine) are all sharing a house in the hopes of getting along, coming to terms with their cloneishness and making a family of sorts so that they all stop fighting each other - which will ultimately make their lives easier and safer. Don't fight it just accept and embrace it for the comedy value. Kira, Felix, etc, will make appearances at some point I'm sure. Also I'm very new to the clone club so please love me. Enjoy!

** Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction **

* * *

 

_**One.** _

_**Midnight Snack** _

* * *

 

          "Seestra," the sound was soft and slightly muffled.

 

          "I'm sleepin' Helena," was the reply, groggy and slightly annoyed.

 

          "No, seestra."

 

          "Yeah, sister."

 

          "No. Must wake up now."

 

          With great effort and already waning patience, Sarah Manning slowly opened an eye. The sight that greeted her was not exactly comforting.

 

          This was mainly because it involved her psychopathic clone crouched beside her bed, the tip of her nose resting gently on the duvet, her mouth out of view, and her wide eyes staring intensely into the deepest, darkest depths of Sarah's soul - or so it felt anyway. Yet this was an expression which commonly adorned Helena's features (so all of their features, really, which made for a very unsettling reflection) and as such was not a subject for concern in itself. The thing which _really_ made matters all the more alarming was the fact Helena had dark smudges across her face.

 

          And Sarah Manning knew Helena well enough to assume that those smudges, almost black in a room illuminated only by the light coming in from the open doorway, were blood.

 

          "Helena," Sarah said, trying to keep her voice calm but firm in a situation which really called for panic, hysterics and a sense of impending doom instead, "what have you done?"

 

          "You must come see, seestra," The blonde replied, and Sarah could practically _feel_ the proud smile appearing on Helena's partly hidden face, "I have made a present for you. "

 

          "What kinda present?"

 

          "A red one."

 

          This didn't do much to calm Sarah's nerves, all things considered, but when your psychotic clone offers a hand to help you out of bed and guide you to a present they've personally prepared for you - "You are a stumbly, sleepy seestra, but I'm glad I didn't kill you", Helena had whispered kindly as they moved into the hallway - there's nothing for it but to try and roll with the madness.

 

          In the clear light of the hallway Sarah could observe and clarify, with a sinking feeling, that the smudges on Helena's face were, in fact, red. This did not bode well. This did not bode well at all.

 

          "Do you think Alison would like to see the present too?" Sarah asked hopefully, deciding that two clones versus one would greatly improve her odds of survival.

 

          "No, this present for you only," Helena replied, shattering any hopes Sarah had of her continued existence, "Not horrible soccer lady."

 

          _Wonderful_. Sarah forced a smile and Helena beamed back at her as if all her dreams were slowly coming true.

 

          As difficult as it was, what with Helena's ever present penchant for murder resting uneasily in all of their minds , it really was best to indulge the blonde in her maddened fantasies of an idyllic sibling relationship whenever the feeling so struck her. The last time Sarah had attempted to explain that, by virtue of their repeated past attempts to kill each other, they were perhaps not the _most_ functional of siblings, Helena had taken Delphine hostage and refused to give her back. It had taken a lot of gentle coaxing and a pinky promise from Sarah that she'd go for a sisterly meal with Helena at a "nice restaurant" - which turned out to be a rundown kebab shop in the sketchier part of town - to convince Helena to let a very shaky and traumatised Delphine go. Cosima had swept her up into her arms immediately and Alison had generously offered to shoot Helena in the name of justice and the safety of their families, something to which Rachel gave a rather indifferent shrug to before taking a sip of her coffee, and Sarah found herself in the bizarre position of defending the clone who had once actively sought to destroy them all.

 

          "Look at her," Sarah had said, not entirely sure what had come over her, "She's us. Just a very damaged us that needs a bit of-"

 

          "Weaponry!" Helena had suggested enthusiastically.

 

          "No, a bit of-"

 

          "Ammunition!"

         

          " _No_ , a bit of help and affection," Sarah had finished quickly, before Helena could provide any more evidence to the contrary, "A bit of support."

 

          "Oh, I shall give her support alright," Alison had declared emphatically, "The kind of loving support she showed us and which drove Beth over the edge!"

 

          It had been at that pivotal point in the discussion that Alison had strode forwards and attempted to put Helena in a stranglehold, only to have Sarah intervene, which caused Helena to embrace one of her more murderous moods, which prompted Cosima to get involved in the hopes of breaking up the fight before somebody got killed, which made Delphine enter the fray in order to protect her lover, and all the while Rachel remained leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee and watching the proceedings as one might watch a very interesting experiment taking place in a lab.

 

          The attempt at a house share, it seemed, was not going as well as hoped.

 

          This was especially the case, Sarah pondered as they neared the kitchen, now that there was the distinct possibility Helena was either plotting to murder her or had already killed somebody and brought their body back to the house as a present for her beloved "seestra".

 

          "We are nearing the kitchen." Helena stated, as if it was not already entirely obvious and Sarah needed help getting her bearings. "Soon there will be present for you."

 

          "Great, yeah. Can't wait." Sarah replied, evidently becoming more and more proficient at lying as the days went by. She couldn't help but notice, in a very unhappy manner, the smears of red on the walls as they reached the kitchen doorway.

 

          "Seestra, I will put my hands over your eyes now." Helena said, causing Sarah to freeze in horror. Something about the red all over the walls made Sarah's trust in Helena just that little bit lacking.

 

          "Helena, no."

 

          "Seestra, yes."

 

          And that was that, apparently, as Helena took it upon herself to dart behind Sarah and deftly clamp her hands over the other clone's eyes before she could react. "No peeking, seestra. I shall tell you when to open them." Helena said, doing nothing to boost Sarah's confidence in the whole enterprise.

 

          As Sarah was guided forwards she thought about Kira, Felix and even Mrs. S, and she hoped they were happy and wouldn't be too distressed if they found Helena proudly standing over her dead body when they came to visit in the morning.

 

          Well, perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. Helena had become oddly attached to her. Maybe she was safe. Maybe she'd _live-_

 

 

          "I hope you do not feel too queasy at the mess," Helena announced, "There was so much of the red and it all happened so fast."

 

          Images of a dismembered body whizzed around Sarah's mind. _Christ_ , maybe it really was some kind of weird killing in her honour. Alison would be _furious_.

         

          They came to a halt. The hands lifted from Sarah's eyes.

 

          "You may open your eyes now, seestra." Helena said.

 

          Sarah did just that.

 

          There was red. There was a lot of red. Absolutely and undeniably. It was on the counters, on the cooker, on the ceiling, on the walls, all over the tiled floor. Some of it was lumpy and it was more than a little off-putting.

 

          There was also a small glass bowl on one of the counters, full of mangled redness. Was it... _was it chunks of a dead person?_ Sarah grimaced and prepared for the worst.

 

          "Helena, what - ?"

 

          "Jell-o!" Helena explained proudly, producing two spoons from the cutlery drawer, "I made it myself for my seestra. We eat together," she dangled the spoon in front of Sarah, who looked like she was going through such an immense shock she might drop dead at any moment, "Seestra, are you ill? Do you not want the jell-o?"

 

          Sarah might have laughed had she not been going through what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a brief visit into a parallel universe where Helena was a very incompetent amateur chef as opposed to a serial killer.

 

          But one can't keep one's needy and psychotic twin waiting for very long, unless they want to upset her delicate temperament, so in the end Sarah simply breathed " _Shit_ " in utter disbelief, accepted the spoon swinging in front of her face and sat with Helena for a half hour, eating the world's worst attempt at jell-o while Helena enthused about sugary products and complained passionately about Alison's entire existence.


	2. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the clones begin to notice Rachel's compulsive desire to stare out of floor-to-ceiling windows and decide to intervene, only for things to go entirely tits up.

* * *

 

**Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction**

* * *

 

**_Two._ **

**_Intervention_ **

* * *

          At first nobody had even noticed it. It wasn't a major issue, in the grand scheme of things, and all attention was usually focused on Helena, who was a reliable and worrying source of both murderous intent and childlike curiosity.

 

          In fact, not much attention was paid to Rachel Duncan at all. She was reserved, seemingly emotionless and expressionless, and did not appear to harbour any feelings of affection towards her fellow clones. She wasn't one for small talk and when she did occasionally open her mouth to speak it was generally to impart a snarky comment, a veiled threat or comment about some pearl of scientific knowledge that only Cosima or Delphine had a hope in hell of being genuinely interested in.She also boasted the unsettling quality of staring at the other women as if she were making mental lab notes to record on her laptop later. This made her clone counterparts less inclined to spend any time with her at all, aside from the rare highly awkward greeting in the morning or the even less frequent request for her to pass the jam or marmalade at breakfast.

         

          Rachel Duncan was an oddity, it was agreed between Sarah, Alison and Cosima, which was saying something considering they all shared a house with Helena. Yet, interestingly enough, it was Helena who first noticed Rachel's peculiar habit.

 

          "She is strange," Helena had observed, sitting uncomfortably close to Sarah on a sofa one afternoon, "always on the phone. Always looking out a window. Blah blah I am proclone blah blah experiment this, experiment that, blah blah," She'd blown a raspberry before continuing, much to Sarah's distaste as most of Helena's spit ended up on her face, "boring little sheep doing boring little window things. Seestra and I are much better. We have _connection_."

 

          Despite the unwelcome face stroking which Helena had then embarked upon - whispering _"We are family and I love you, seestra"_ repeatedly and with growing intensity - Sarah had to admit the blonde had a point. Rachel really did spend an awful amount of time staring out of windows, looking authoritative and vaguely dramatic. If she happened to be on the phone at the time it seemed to make the staring-out-a-window experience all the more satisfying for her.

 

          Sarah had brought up the topic to Alison and Cosima after dinner that night, in a hushed tone as Rachel was stood in front of a window to the side of them, gazing sombrely into the distance. Alison had agreed that now she came to think of it, if there was a window in a room it was a guaranteed fact that Rachel, upon entering, would gravitate towards it immediately. Cosima swore she'd once seen Rachel staring intently at one of the windows despite its blinds being down. This was the exact moment in which the trio realised Rachel had a genuine problem, aside from her obsessive need for control _at all times_ and her occasional flights in complete ruthlessness, and that they were going to have to stage an intervention.

 

          "She can't keep staring out of windows her whole life," Sarah had said conclusively, "she's strange enough as it is and Helena's a total clusterfuck. I'll be damned if I'm 'gonna let another one of us go completely batshit."

 

          It was at breakfast of the next day when Rachel got out of her seat and began to drift towards a window again. Helena was thankfully still in bed and Delphine was doing a quick run to the nearest shop to buy some croissants, which she had gained a sudden craving for after talking enthusiastically about the wonderful patisseries back in France.

 

          Sarah and Alison exchanged glances across the table. Cosima unhelpfully had her head buried in some sciencey book about neurology so Sarah gave her a generous kick under the table, causing the dreadlocked clone to let out a small yelp and glare at her. Sarah motioned her head in the direction of Rachel, who was almost entirely pressed up against the window. Cosima gave a small "Ooooh," and slowly closed her book. The three clones nodded at one another and all rose to their feet at the same time. They cautiously closed in on their prey.

 

          "Rachel, are you feeling quite well?" Alison began, in the motherly way that only she could manage. The trio came to a halt between the sofas in the living area, a few feet away from Rachel's back.

 

          "Of course I am. Why the sudden interest?" Came the reply. Unsurprisingly to everyone involved, Rachel's tone was devoid of any feeling whatsoever. It was because of this that her voice managed to instil a horribly unsettling feeling in anybody who heard it.

 

          "No, no, it's nothing," Alison said hurriedly, "we were just wondering... it... well..."

 

          "We've noticed your enthusiasm for windows," Cosima finished, thinking it best to get the ball rolling as quickly as possible.

 

          "My enthusiasm for _what?"_

 

          "Windows,"

 

          "Also phone conversations while looking out windows," Sarah added helpfully.      

 

          Rachel let out a long, weary sigh and stayed silent for a moment. It was terribly exasperating being the proclone of such a bunch of imbeciles. Her stare out of the window became more melancholic, as if she were reminiscing over a time when she could gaze out of a floor-to-ceiling window in a well-lit, minimally furnished room all day long without being questioned.

 

          "It is for important reasons," Rachel eventually replied, "none of you would understand. You are not proclone's like me."

 

          "Pro-crazy more like," Sarah commented, having never really been one for manners.

 

          "I think what Sarah means to say," Cosima said, ever the keeper of the peace, "is that your behaviour is becoming detrimental to your everyday life."

 

          Alison nodded, one hand on a hip and the other toying with the collar of her shirt. "You and I went to the shop the other day and just as we started to walk back you got a call. You couldn't answer it until you'd hurried back in the shop just so you could stare out the window again."

 

          "We're concerned for your welfare." Cosima emphasized.

 

          One of Rachel's brows twitched a little, which was the closest to rolling her eyes she'd ever ventured. She still hadn't turned to face the others so her very brief display of an emotion called annoyance went unnoticed. Instead, she made it evident with her next words, "Gracious, who knew playing happy families would become so tiresome so quickly-"

 

          "Look here, shit stick," Sarah interrupted, in the patient and kind manner that defined her, "the more time you spend standing near windows the more tempting it gets to push you right through. It's weird having you stood in front of windows all day and it's even creepier at night."

 

          "Don't you ache being stood so rigidly in the same spot for so long?" Cosima piped up, always more interested in the physiology of matters. Her question went unanswered, however, as it was more or less drowned out by Sarah's continued rant.

 

          "What if people in the apartment opposite think you're watching them - like a stalker or something? _We're a bunch of clones living under one roof_ , the last thing we want is the police knocking on our door. If you wanna' spend your time doing this brooding crap then at least _limit_ it a bit and do it in your own room, alright?"

                                      

          "I can't," Rachel lamented, and for the first time in her life sounded as if a bit of genuine sadness was creeping into her voice, "the windows in there are not floor-to-ceiling."

 

          There was a very long pause at this, in which Sarah let out a noise of frustration and collapsed into the sofa behind her. Alison had an expression of clear disdain on her face, shook her head in disbelief, and then moved into the kitchen area to get herself a calming glass of wine. Cosima, in contrast, was looking exceptionally intrigued by Rachel's bizarre behaviour.

 

          "Why do they have to be floor-to-ceiling windows?"

 

          "That is a ridiculous question and I shall not dignify it with an answer."

 

          "It seems to be quite specific and compulsive behaviour," Cosima continued, her hands making elaborate gestures as she began pacing back and forth, "you're also very particular about how things are laid out in the house...It's interesting...the rest of us all share a bit of an impulsive trait and yet you're very methodical and contained-"

 

          "That is because I am the proclone and I have curbed any unruly behaviour our genetics have caused us to be naturally inclined to," Rachel cut in, back to her slow, monotone voice, "I have instead focused on our more useful traits."

 

          Sarah rolled her eyes. "Like staring out windows, yeah?"

 

          "Like our intelligence, our affinity for problem solving, our determination," Rachel slowly turned to face the other clones, face expressionless and hair as sharp and unnecessarily aggressive looking as usual, "our ability to be utterly ruthless when the situation arises."

 

          Rachel was staring at Sarah, in particular, and Sarah was glowering back at her. Cosima stood awkwardly to the side, glancing from one identical face to the other. Things always got a bit _intense_ and sexually confusing between Rachel and Sarah. Alison, who had wafted back into the living area, took one look at the staring contest happening between the two, gave a tutting noise of disapproval that implied this was a disgracefully common occurrence, downed her glass of wine and moved away to fill it up again.

 

          "I think," Cosima began slowly, seeing that there were no signs of either Rachel or Sarah breaking away from their heated gazes at one another, "maybe Sarah was right. That you should limit it a bit, you know?"

 

          "I shall do no such thing," Rachel replied, still staring directly into Sarah's eyes.

 

          "It's not very healthy behaviour-" Cosima attempted.

 

          "Well your coughing is not very healthy behaviour but I do not see that becoming a topic for discussion," Rachel interrupted with absolutely no remorse whatsoever and a hint of a triumphant smirk on her lips.

 

          Alison let out a horrified gasp from beside one of the kitchen counters, to the background sound of her glass being dropped and smashed into a million pieces against the tiled floor. She was already half way back to the living area by the time Sarah had leapt to her feet and begun squaring off with the clone in front of her.

 

          _"Rachel, you bitch-"_

 

          "FIRST OF ALL, HOW DARE YOU," Alison's voice roared over the top, bringing a stark reminder to everyone in the room that she could be just as murderous as Helena when she wanted to be, "SECOND OF ALL, _WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT-"_

 

          "Alison, Sarah, it's alright, _really_ -" Cosima started, trying her best to hold onto one of Alison's arms and rein her in as she attempted to get close enough to Rachel to punch her in the face.

 

          "NO IT'S NOT ALRIGHT," Alison declared furiously, struggling in Cosima's grip, "I'VE DEALT WITH LESS OFFENSIVE REMARKS FROM THE _PARENTS_ AT THE KIDS SOCCER MATCHES!"

 

          "If you ever say anything about Cosima's coughing again I'll beat the shit out of you," Sarah said darkly, getting so close to Rachel that their noses were practically touching, "You might act like you're some kinda jacked up ice queen but I know you're a jumpy piece of shit deep down."

 

          Images of Sarah shooting the window behind her at the DYAD institute flashed through Rachel's mind. A flicker of humiliation and a slight eye twitch. _Bollocks_. "Perhaps we should all agree to keep out of each other's business, then? Window staring included."

         

          Alison, having sufficiently relented in her attempts to knock Rachel out, gave her a warning glare and took Cosima's hand in her own. She squeezed it reassuringly. "Sarah, let's go and visit Felix."

 

          "What about Delphine?" Cosima asked worriedly, never liking to be parted from her _petite chiot_ for long.

 

          "We'll call her. I think we could all benefit from a change of scenery for today."

 

          "Yeah, you two go. I'm busy," Sarah said, still staring intensely into Rachel's eyes.

 

          Alison and Cosima frowned at one another. "Busy doing what?" Alison asked.

 

          There was no reply. The two clones continued to glare at one another, inches apart. Alison gave a huff. They could be like that for hours sometimes. It was entirely unproductive and inconsiderate. Maybe there should be an intervention for _them_ , addressing their compulsive and weirdly sexual staring. She ushered Cosima towards the front door. "Well we'll see you later then."

 

          "Try not to shove her out the window, Sarah!" Cosima added with a grin, promptly being pushed out the door, which Alison slammed irritably behind them.

 

          It was half an hour later, with neither Sarah or Rachel having moved an inch, when Helena stumbled into the room in a dirty looking vest, jeans and her beloved green parka. Sleepwear was a foreign idea to Helena, who enjoyed wearing the same clothes on a permanent basis until Sarah forced her to have a bath and put on something more agreeable. The green parka was always part of the outfit, though, and was practically an extension of Helena herself.

 

          She came to a halt and gazed wide-eyed at the two for a moment before padding over to the fridge and finding herself some leftover ham to munch on. She continued to watch the other clones as she silently ate and, once done, she moved over to them and situated herself closely next to Sarah. A bit _too_ closely perhaps, but then she was very fond of her 'seestra'.

 

          Helena looked at Sarah. Sarah was still staring at Rachel. Helena trusted Sarah. Sarah was her family. Sarah must be doing something important.

 

          Helena slowly turned her head and fixed Rachel with a similar stare.

 

          Whatever Sarah did, no matter how little she understood it, Helena would join in.

 

          Sometimes it would be in a hostile, murderous manner and she might end up injuring or killing a few people.

 

          But other times, like today, it would be in an entirely trusting and passive way that involved a lot of unexplained eye contact with Rachel Duncan.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RACHEL YOU WINDOW STARING NERD, YOU'RE TEARING THIS FAMILY APART.


	3. On The Seventh Day You Shall Rest (No Not You Alison)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alison's valiant attempt to cook a roast dinner is thwarted by everyone at literally every turn.

* * *

 

**Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction**

* * *

 

**_Three._ **

**_On The Seventh Day You Shall Rest (No Not You Alison)_ **

****

* * *

 

 

          "What if we cook like a...roast dinner or something?" Sarah had said.

 

          "We'll all pitch in, you know. Help out," Sarah had said.

 

          "Try and come together like a family, right?" Sarah had said.

 

          "It'll be fun," Sarah had said.

 

          _Fun? FUN?_ Alison ground her teeth together and began hacking at the broccoli with all the displaced anger and violent intent of a serial killer (which, interestingly enough, made her look the spitting image of Helena for all of ten bewildering seconds). But this wasn't fun. _Sarah had lied._ She had stared her clone directly in the eyes and opened her mouth and said words which were lies. _FUN?!_ This was a lonely deluge into the flaming pits of hell itself-

 

          "Helena, Helena come here," Alison said desperately, turning to face the blonde clone with the very last glimmers of hope fading from her eyes, "you're good at chopping things up," (like bodies, probably, Alison thought, but she reasoned the two couldn't be all that different), "come and chop up the broccoli for me-"

 

          "No," Helena replied decisively, slowly descending to her knees, "I can do nothing today. It is Sunday. The day of rest. I shall pray." And with that said, she outstretched her arms either side of her, closed her eyes and remained there in adamant silence, much to Alison's dismay and distress.      

 

          _Helena had been an absolute last resort._ This could not be stressed enough. The potatoes weren't prepared, the rest of the vegetables were an unmanageable mess given the timescale Alison had left until the beef was ready to be carved, there were no yorkshire puddings and she hadn't even _begun_ to tackle the horseradish sauce.

_Alison's world was crumbling around her._

 

          Not that anybody cared. _Not that anybody had even noticed_. One might think there would be some kind of 'clone sense' that alerted the others to her extreme levels of stress and panic - but no. Such a thing evidently did not exist because there Alison was fending for herself in the kitchen. Isolated and abandoned and alone.

 

          Cosima and Delphine were holed up in Cosima's room, apparently seeing how long they could spend making out with one another - "for the science", of course. Naturally it had been Cosima's idea _entirely_ and Delphine had given Alison an apologetic look as she was dragged out of the kitchen area and down the hallway (though Alison was skeptical of the sincerity of such a look, seeing as kissing Cosima wasn't so much an unbearable chore for Delphine as a pleasurable and rewarding pass time).

 

          Rachel had been equally useless due to the fact she lacked _any_ desire to help another human being unless it had some kind of proportionate benefit for her. She also potentially didn't know the meaning of the word empathy, though this was something Sarah was looking into in her spare time. In fact, Rachel had been staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window in the living area for the greater part of the day, taking the occasional phone call and sometimes muttering something about "coming to terms" or "neolution". Alison had gained her commitment to helping with the cooking for one brilliant, dazzling moment, when suddenly Rachel's mobile had buzzed and the proclone had held up a hand to Alison to be quiet and sat herself down at the kitchen table, speaking very intensely in German.

 

          And where was Sarah? Laughing and joking with an excessively high Felix on one of the sofas. He'd stumbled over uninvited and barely comprehensible and Sarah had been overjoyed to see him and ushered him into the living area, where they remained. Talking some bollocks about their wild and unruly antics as teenagers.

 

          _Well it wasn't fair,_ Alison thought. This had been Sarah's idea and the least she could do was offer to help. Seeing as this idea had clearly _not_ entered Sarah's mind of its own accord, however, Alison decided to take matters into her own hands.

 

          "SARAH WOULD IT CAUSE YOU PERMANENT DAMAGE TO COME HERE AND OFFER SOME ASSISTANCE?" Alison demanded, making sure her voice was loud enough to be heard over Felix's terrific giggles.

 

          "Oh no, no, Felix, stop, she's getting angry," Sarah whispered to Felix in mock fright, a grin on her lips as she got up from the sofa to head for the kitchen, "she'll hit me over the head with a golf club if I don't go, no, really, Felix, _really_ -"

 

          "Don't leave me," Felix said mournfully, trying to hold onto one of Sarah's hands and pull her back, "I'm not ready, I haven't had time to mentally prepare. We haven't even said _goodbye_ -"

 

          But Sarah had already managed to wriggle her way out of his hold and was slinking guiltily over to the kitchen area, looking every inch the scolded child.

 

          "You're so heartless!" Felix lamented dramatically behind her, spreading himself out on the sofa and pretending to sulk.

 

          Sarah paid him no mind, however, as she came to a halt by Alison's side. Alison fixed her with a glare. She motioned for Sarah to take over from her station. "You can deal with broccoli, I assume?"

 

          "I've only done microwave meals before," Sarah said truthfully, "and ordered takeaways."

 

          Alison stared at Sarah. She stared at Sarah for a long, long time as if unable to fathom her existence, and then she slowly backed away to fetch a bottle of wine from a cupboard and pour herself a drink.

 

          It was during this alcoholic interlude that Sarah put a pan on to boil and plopped some of the broccoli into the water, thinking that she was doing really remarkably well given the situation and her lack of past experience.

         

          Alison, however, was under no such pretence and let out a horrified noise - a noise of pure terror and genuine alarm - upon turning around and seeing what Sarah had done. The glass of wine was slammed onto the counter and briefly forgotten about as she flung herself into the fray, becoming a whirlwind of the culinary arts in her valiant attempts to save the botched vegetable. "BROCCOLI _NEVER_ BELONGS IN BOILING WATER LIKE SOME MUTANT GREEN POTATO, SARAH. YOU STEAM IT! _STEAM IT,_ FOR THE LOVE OF DELIA SMITH!"

 

          Sarah backpedalled as quickly as humanly possible, holding up her hands in a gesture of half-surrender, half-disbelief. "Whoa, alright, Alison, it's broccoli not a gun, no need to be so aggres- _SHITE-"_

 

          It was at this particular and vital moment in Sarah's life that she backed into the kneeling Helena, tripped over her and fell - descending, as it were, into a mess of tangled limbs and confusion. Her eyes squeezed shut instinctively; interrupting Helena's prayers was surely a one-way ticket to a sudden and untimely demise. But, after a moment or two, it came to Sarah's attention that she _wasn't_ dead and that Alison was muttering "Oh really, is that _entirely_ necessary" under her breath beside one of the counters.

 

          Sarah opened her eyes.

 

          Sarah tried not to let out another _"SHITE",_ such was her alarm at seeing Helena's face quite so close to her own. Not only this, but the blonde was crouched atop her, giving her a distinct advantage if things took a turn for the murderous, as they so often did around her.  

 

          "Seestra, why do you interrupt my prayers?" Helena asked. leaning in closer than Sarah thought physically possible. Sarah was also reminded that she _really_ needed to try and teach Helena how to use a toothbrush again. (Last time hadn't gone very well - Helena had accidentally picked up Alison's toothbrush to use instead of the nice new one Sarah had bought for her, and just as Helena was vaguely getting to grips with the concept and was aiming the toothbrush for the lower half of her face rather than her nose, Alison walked in and let out a shriek that could only be classified under the banshee spectrum of high-pitched noises).

 

          "I fell, sorry," Sarah answered, hoping Helena might take pity on her misfortune and help her back to her feet.

 

          As usual, however, luck was not on Sarah's side.

 

          "Yes, _fell from grace,"_ Helena replied, grabbing Sarah roughly by her vest and forcibly manoeuvring her onto her knees (not without a small modicum of anger and unhappiness on Sarah's part), "pray to God for forgiveness of your sins on this nice rest day."

 

          Sarah dedicated just a split second to stare at Helena as if she were personally and directly taking the piss. "Fuck no."

 

          This was not welcome news to Helena, who was always ever hopeful that her 'seestra' might repent her wicked ways and embrace the light. _"Bad seestra-"_ the blonde hissed, preparing to resort to more violent methods when suddenly a dull, unexplained impact caused her head to jerk forward slightly and knock against Sarah's, who didn't seem particularly pleased about having just been head butted.

 

          There was no time to recover, however, as the onslaught happened again, and both Helena and Sarah became vaguely aware that Alison was stood over them, slapping them both over their heads. The impact was lessened, it would seem, because she was wearing oven mitts. _"Would. You. Two. Please. Stop. This. Effing. Twisted. Sister. Act!"_ Alison ordered, each word punctuated with a generous slap to the head.

 

          (Rachel could be distantly heard in the background, asking very matter-of-factly, "Could you all keep the noise down, this is a very important call about double glazing-")

 

          But Helena, in particular, did not care for being hit over the head with oven mitts and let out what sounded suspiciously like a growl, getting ready to launch herself at Alison. Sarah helpfully intervened, grabbing a tight hold of her sister and dragging her back to the floor alongside her. She shot a quick glare at Alison during the proceedings. "We'll stop as soon as you stop starring in the new series of _Hell's Kitchen_ you shitting mentalist _-"_

 

          "Hell's kitchen?" Helena echoed, having frozen completely, her eyes getting wider by the second as the unsolicited news sunk in, _"Hell?"_

 

          Sarah had realised her mistake only too late. _"Oh shite-"_

 

          The two sisters became engaged in another fierce struggle, as Helena fought to tackle Alison to the ground and Sarah did everything in her power to prevent such an occurrence from happening. Alison, having roughly estimated that she was now, in fact, two hundred percent done with the day and everything it entailed, looked as if she couldn't care less and headed back to rescue her marooned glass of wine from the kitchen counter.

 

          It should be noted that during Alison, Sarah and Helena's positively furious interactions, Cosima and Delphine had entered the living area, with Cosima proudly claiming that she and Delphine had passed the hour mark this time - "a personal best". Felix threw up a hand to give her a celebratory high-five, which she accepted with great enthusiasm, and then she and Delphine took the sofa opposite him. Delphine was blushing considerably and Cosima simply looked immensely pleased with herself. She began chatting with Felix and one thing lead to another, as it invariably did when the two came into contact with each other, and they were smoking in what seemed like seconds to Delphine. She looked a little unsure, but exceptionally curious too, and still feeling victorious and a little bit invincible after breaking a record in time spent kissing, she quietly asked if she could join in. Felix and Cosima were utterly beside themselves with delight and Felix practically flung himself to join them on the other sofa, squashing right up to Delphine to maximize the experience.

 

          There were still crashes and shrieks of annoyance from the kitchen area, and the occasional inclusion of Rachel's calm voice asking for silence in "these dark times of PVB laminated glass installations", but the trio in the living area ignored them. Delphine was soon looking disgracefully relaxed and had sunk back into the cushions, murmuring something about the DYAD institute, though in her impaired state she seemed to have gotten it a little mixed up with the Eiffel tower. Cosima, being the caring girlfriend she was, attempted to correct her, only to muddle her own words up and refer to it as the "die hard" institute, which prompted Felix to start singing _"LIVE FAST DIE YOUNG, BAD GIRLS DO IT WELL",_ and Cosima and Delphine to quickly join in. All three were soon on their feet, singing and dancing in a slight smoky haze, and all three were blissfully unaware of the bundles of rage heading their way.

 

          For Sarah and Helena were still scrabbling at each other madly, now both on their feet and tumbling towards the living area. Helena accidentally elbowed Rachel in the head as they passed her by, and Rachel let out a surprised yelp of _"NEIN"_ as if it were an impulsive reflex when she was put in danger. Luckily Helena and Sarah were gone as quickly as they had come and Alison was too busy searching for another bottle of wine to notice, so nobody saw Rachel freeze for a split second in disbelief at her swift crack under pressure. Within moments the ice queen expression took hold again, and Rachel was continuing her conversation over the phone as if nothing had happened.

 

          The twin sisters crashed into the living area, Helena slamming Sarah against a sofa and Sarah tackling her mid waist, unknowingly pushing them both into the middle of the spontaneous dance ring.

 

          And so it was that Sarah eventually held Helena in a headlock, repeatedly demanding her to calm down and Helena refusing to reply except entirely in Ukrainian. And so it was that Felix, Cosima and Delphine were dancing merrily around the twins, singing M.I.A.'s 'Bad Girls' as if it were the national anthem. And so it was that Rachel, still sat at the table in the kitchen area, had to raise her voice to be heard on her mobile, saying something along the lines of "DOUBLE GLAZING IS _TWICE_ AS EFFECTIVE AS SECONDARY GLAZING AND I FIND MY PATIENCE IN YOU ALMOST ENTIRELY DEPLETED-"

 

          Alison watched the scenes before her in a silent and exceptionally dangerous kind of way. _Delia never said it would be so hard,_ she thought bitterly, finishing off yet another glass of wine and setting it on the counter. Well, why should she have to stand here unacknowledged - surrounded by humiliation, defeat and a doomed roast dinner? She wouldn't be _Alison Hendrix_ if she allowed such a thing to happen.

 

          "AM I THE ONLY SANE PERSON HERE?" Alison roared in a manner which immediately threw her sanity into question, especially as she was flinging a strainer full of broccoli over Rachel's head and into the fray of dancing and fighting taking centre stage in the living area.

 

          Everybody froze and a few moments passed in silence, with everyone's eyes on Alison. Even Rachel had stopped speaking, though her mobile was still pressed against her ear as if she'd die if it were parted from her. Alison let out a sob of despair and reached for her glass, only to change course midway and grab the entire bottle of wine instead, chugging it with great determination.

 

          "...Christ, she really can drink like a sailor," Felix whispered, a hint of admiration in his voice.

 

          Another few seconds of silence.

 

          Then the faint sound of Helena, still trapped in Sarah's headlock, asking innocently, "Is the heretic still serving jell-o for pudding like she promised, seestra?"

 

* * *

          It might have taken a lot of yelling and slapping and crying but eventually everybody was seated at the table for dinner. It was an unusual mix of burnt beef and entirely uncooked vegetables, which Alison served to everyone aggressively and spitefully. Everyone except herself, that was, as she sat at the head of the table with nothing before her. Instead, she clutched onto a solitary wine glass, taking a moment to stare each dinner guest directly in the eyes before stating sarcastically, "It was an _honour_ and you're all _very welcome."_ Her head then promptly slammed onto the table and it was evident to all that she had fallen into another one of her alcohol induced sleeps.

 

          Felix wasted no time in finding a pen and beginning to draw on her face, which Cosima eventually joined in with. They tried to rope Delphine into the mischievous and potentially life-threatening endeavour, but the blonde kept shaking her head and saying "Oh _merde_ , non, non!" in between giggles.

 

          Helena, meanwhile, was tucking into the meal with full force, shovelling raw vegetables onto her plate and spraying bits of food everywhere. This was to the disgust of Sarah, seated beside her, and also Rachel, who was sat opposite the two of them.

 

          Sarah and Rachel's eyes met and they began another heated bout of intense staring, wherein Rachel commented, "You do not seem to be teaching our pet very good manners", and Sarah retorted, "Yeah well you've got a shit haircut."

 

          There was a slight pause at the brutal honesty of such a statement, before Rachel replied, "It is a classic cut that is timeless-"

 

          "It's some fuckin' alien headmistress haircut," Sarah interrupted without batting an eyelid, much to Rachel's annoyance.

 

          "I think you will find," Rachel said patiently, "that it is termed the 'reflective' or 'glacial' bob in _many_ fashion circles-"

 

          "Why'd you have to style it so aggressively and with so many sharp angles?" Sarah questioned.

 

          "It is all about power dynamics and authoritative hierarchies, Sarah. I would not expect you to understand-"

 

          "Well it makes you look like you've got a stick up your arse," Sarah said conclusively, downing her glass of wine.

 

          The two fell into silence, their glares speaking volumes.

 

          From the other end of the table Alison gave a sudden start, sitting bolt upright and causing the trio around her to let out terrified screams. Alison saw the pen and understood what had happened immediately (Felix drawing on her face when she was asleep was not an uncommon occurrence, despite her vocal loathing of it). She swung for Felix without hesitation, snarling as she did so. Felix, not wanting his beautiful face to be damaged, leant quickly and violently back into his chair, dodging Alison's fist but causing his seat to tip and fall backwards, taking him with it as it did so.

 

          And so it came to be that the first attempted Sunday roast between the group ended in culinary disaster and with Alison lunging for Felix again, crashing on top of him and slapping at him furiously.  

 

          So it came to be that Felix did his best to protect himself, slapping back at Alison and yelling, _"Get this mad bitch off of me!"_ whenever his laughing died down enough to allow him to do so.

 

          So it came to be that Cosima and Delphine valiantly attempted to pull Alison away, only to be dragged into the brawl instead, with one of Cosima's dreadlocks being painfully pulled and Alison's ponytail being tugged back hard in retaliation.

 

          So it came to be that Sarah and Rachel didn't move a muscle, and remained staring at one another indefinitely, with the quiet sound of a confused German voice coming from Rachel's mobile which she had placed affectionately onto the table as dinner was being served.

 

          And ultimately for Helena, so it came to be that nobody was eating any of their food, so with cautious glances to make sure nobody was paying attention, she saw her opportunity and took it, enthusiastically demolishing the entirety of Alison's ruined roast dinner in one sitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least Helena got what she wanted. She had her head in the game.


	4. Bend It Like Hendrix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alison and Felix are 200% done, Cosima's love for Delphine threatens to ruin her team's chances of winning (or at least losing not quite so badly), Rachel is a big stupid nerd who spends most of her time on the ground and Helena is betrayed by Sarah in one of the worst ways possible.

* * *

 

**Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction**

* * *

**_Four._ **

**_Bend It Like Hendrix_ **

 

* * *

 

 

          Rachel was running.

          Well, 'running' was perhaps too strong a word for what she was achieving. It was more like a very gentle jog or a brisk walk, but one with great purpose nonetheless. One gained the impression that she was in the middle of something _very important -_ something that demanded _all_ of her concentration and intellect.

          Where was Rachel headed to? _Triumph and glory_ , or at least that's what she thought before Sarah slammed into her side from _out of nowhere_ and sent her sprawling to the grassy ground.

          "Snooze 'ya lose, Duncan!" was the cheery comment as Sarah continued on her way, kicking the ball down the other end of the pitch.

          _The indignity! The humiliation!_ Rachel had never been _pushed over_ before. That was something that happened to lesser people. People who weren't _proclones-_

          _"Foul!"_ Rachel called, getting back to her feet as elegantly as possible for somebody covered in dirt, "That was a foul and I demand a free kick!"

          Alison let out a sigh. It was a very weary sigh because it was the sigh of a woman who had made a terrible mistake. She'd organised a three-a-side soccer match in a field in the middle of nowhere between her clones, Felix and Delphine, thinking the fresh air and exercise would do everyone good. In a bizarrely optimistic moment, she'd even thought it might help bring them together as a family. Unfortunately she had failed to take into consideration that this meant she would be attempting to preside over Rachel Duncan. And Rachel Duncan didn't like taking orders.

          "It wasn't a foul, Rachel. Her feet touched the ball first," Alison replied with infinite good grace and patience. She didn't give the blonde a chance to argue, as she surely would have, and instead began jogging down the pitch after Sarah. (The proclone attempted a half-hearted declaration of Alison's _obvious_ bias in Sarah's favour, but when it became clear to her that Alison was actually _all the way down the other end of the pitch_ and couldn't hear her, she trailed off and awkwardly began brushing herself down, pretending that she hadn't said anything at all and that wiping the dirt off herself have always been her first and foremost intention).

          Sadly, Rachel was not the only problem player Alison was having to contend with. Though Cosima showed enthusiasm and energy, she was _definitely_ more concerned with trying to do tricks and show off to Delphine, who happened to be surprisingly talented at the game and boasted a great deal of facts about the French team and how they were going to win the World Cup that year. This tragically meant that despite Rachel's best efforts (which were not good) her team was trailing by seven goals to four as every time Cosima gained possession of the ball she started doing keepie-uppies, yelling over to Delphine to watch her "mad skills".

          Delphine would reply by sprinting over to her, whereupon she'd whisper something in Cosima's ear and give her a kiss on the cheek, all of which apparently caused Cosima's brain the malfunction as she would invariably lose control of the ball. Delphine would then swiftly take possession and start running towards the empty goal down the other end, which should have been occupied by Helena who simply hadn't grasped the concept of the game at all.

          Would Helena stay in goal? No. Would Helena attempt to catch the ball if it was booted her way? No. Would Helena try and tackle the ball off of anybody? No. But would Helena trail around the pitch after Sarah? Yes. And would Helena pass the ball to Sarah on the odd chance it came rolling to her feet, despite the fact they were on separate teams? Yes.

          "Helena, _Helena!"_ Alison yelled, waving erratically at the blonde who was wandering confusedly after Sarah as she celebrated her fourth goal, "why weren't you in goal?"

          Helena came to a halt and stared blankly at Alison. It was a very long stare that showed no signs of stopping and was made all the more unsettling by her refusal to blink. It didn't give off a particularly sane vibe and Alison found herself becoming increasingly uncomfortable as the exchange of stares went on.

          Thankfully Sarah jogged back into view and gave Helena an affectionate ruffle on the head, giving her own answer to Alison's question seeing as Helena was offering none. "She was just helping me, weren't you? Having my back and all that."

          "Yes but that's my point," Alison stressed, looking as if she were in physical pain at the flagrant disregard for the rules of the game, _"you're on different teams."_

          "We are seestra's," Helena said, "and I love my seestra. We must stay together."

          Sarah grinned at that, giving Helena a gentle nudge, "You can be sorta cute sometimes, you know that?".

          Apparently Helena didn't know anything of the kind, quite possibly because nobody had ever said as much to her, and the news caused a sudden jolt in her whole body (which Alison and Sarah looked vaguely alarmed at) as her mood was instantly propelled straight into the stratosphere. In fact, Helena didn't seem to know what to do with herself or how to process such information. And unfortunately for everyone involved, when Helena couldn't get to grips with an emotion it tended to make her agitated and ultimately aggressive. Because aggressive was what she did best and aggressive was how she best knew to convey her feelings of immense reverence and affection for her twin.

          This was why Helena suddenly, and with a _great passion_ , punched Sarah hard in the face.

This was an unexpected development for Sarah, who emphatically believed she hadn't done anything to warrant a punch in the face and so hadn't been prepared for one. Had she been, she might have thrown up an arm to deflect the blow. As it was, Helena's fist connected squarely with her face and sent her staggering sideways, clutching her jaw and yelling, _"SHITE!"_

          "YOU ARE MY FAMILY."

          "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"

          "WE ARE BLESSED. I CAN FEEL IT, SEESTRA."

          "JESUS FUCK HELENA-"

          _"SEESTRA, NO-"_

"WHAT SO WE CAN BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER BUT WE CAN'T SWEAR?!"

          "YOU ARE BAD."

          "YOU JUST PUNCHED ME IN THE SHITTING FACE-"

          "I LOVE YOU."

          The soccer match was quickly forgotten about as the twins descended into another one of their unsightly scraps. There was yelling, slapping, strangling, headlocks - the lot. Alison watched the two indifferently, thinking wistfully of the wine cabinet at home.

          "Does this mean we can stop playing now?" Felix called from the goal at the other end of the pitch. He was leaning against one of the posts sulkily, adjusting his giant sunglasses and pouting for all he was worth. Felix didn't like playing soccer. He especially hated being goalkeeper and having Sarah call him a "silly tit" every time Rachel booted the ball aggressively past him and into the net.

          "No, we can't stop now," Delphine piped up, looking thoroughly distressed and unhappy. She dragged Cosima over to Alison to help make her case, ducking under a stray fist as Sarah swung erratically for Helena's face. "We're in the lead! We only need two more goals to win the match! It was first team to reach ten, wasn't it?"

 _"I_ wouldn't mind ending the game here," Rachel said unhelpfully, having sauntered over to the group with an air of casual disdain for everyone (Sarah particularly).

          "That's only 'cos our team's losing," Cosima pointed out with a cheeky grin, an arm looped around Delphine's waist.

          Rachel shot her a glare. It was a glare that said she could kill her with absolutely no hesitation, given half the chance. "Well of course _my_ team was going to struggle with you and... _that,"_ here Rachel gave a gesture in Helena's direction, looking as though she couldn't comprehend her existence at all, " _she_ doesn't understand the game and there's a very strong possibility _you_ might keel over and die any second. The whole match was rigged from the start."                                                          

          Delphine, in particular, was not best pleased with Rachel's latest effort at socialising. _"What did you say about Cosima-"_

          "YEAH WHAT DID YOU SAY," came Sarah's recognizably angry voice, though it was slightly muffled as Helena currently had both her hands squashed against Sarah's face in an attempt to push her way out of the brunette's hold of her, "SAY IT TO MY FACE RACHEL, I'LL TAKE YOU DOWN."

          "Really? You seem to be struggling with just one clone at the moment," Rachel quipped back, looking thoroughly in control of the situation and unfazed. She turned her gaze to Alison, who had been silent and expressionless the entire time and looked as though she might be having an out of body experience, "So are we ending the game here?"

          There was a very long pause, the silence punctuated only by the occasional sound of a slap, kick or "Helena you crazy fuck, _calm down!"._ Alison, eyes still focused on some empty part of the field in the distance, eventually gave the quiet reply of a suburban mum who had stupidly agreed to live with her clone counterparts without quite comprehending the madness that would ensue, and was now nearing breaking point, "I think Felix and I should go and sit down somewhere and have a drink."

          Felix, who seemed to have an _innate_ sense for when he was specifically being chosen over others, strode over to Alison in a very self-important manner and gave the rest of the group a quick once over, "We'll be over _there_ , when you're all finished trying to kill each other," he said, taking Alison gently by the arm and leading her over to a patch of grass to the side of the pitch.

          Another pause. The remaining players glanced at one another awkwardly.

          "But this means we don't have a goalkeepie," Delphine pointed out in great worry, her brows furrowed as she looked to Cosima for help.

          But Cosima's attention was focused on something else entirely. "Don't have a what?"

          "...Goalkeepie."

          "A goalkeepie?"

          "Oui."

          "You don't have a goalkeepie?"

          "...Have I got it wrong again?"

          "You're adorable."

          Delphine let out an embarrassed whine and nuzzled into Cosima's neck as she was pulled into a hug. Rachel stared bewilderedly at the two of them for a moment, having never really grasped the concept of touching and human contact, and then decided that enough was enough and if nobody else on her team was going to aim for a win then _she would._

            It was only when Sarah had finally managed to force Helena off her and sufficiently calmed her down from 'confused-murderous-impulses' to 'will-probably-still-try-and-kill-you-but-not-right-now-at-least' that she noticed Rachel dribbling the ball past her and shooting it into goal.

          "Oi, proclone!" Sarah yelled, "you can't do that! We weren't ready to play again yet!"

          "There's no referee," Rachel called back, picking up the ball and kicking it through goal again, "I can do what I like."

          This infuriated Sarah for many reasons, most of which were rooted in the fact that it was _Rachel_ and Rachel was a _big stupid nerd_ and Sarah didn't like her. "Yeah, well two can play at that game!" Sarah shouted in reply and charged towards Rachel with great speed and purpose.

          Rachel saw the incoming clone and was also infuriated. This was because it was _Sarah_ and Sarah was an _idiot punk dork_ and Rachel didn't like her. "What are you going to do? Try and _straddle_ me into submission like you did at the DYA-"

          It was at this critical stage in their conversation that Sarah slammed into Rachel with all the force of a small comet and sent the two of them hurtling to the ground. Rachel let out a very uncharacteristic shriek, having been under the wrong impression that Sarah wouldn't _actually_ floor her, and suddenly found herself in a situation _exactly_ like that at the DYAD institute.

          She glowered up at Sarah. "Get your hands off me."

          "No."

          "That was a foul."

          "There's no referee, I can do what I like," Sarah mimicked.

          Rachel huffed. Gave her another glare. "Idiot."

          Sarah grinned, looking exceptionally pleased with herself. "Nerd."

         

* * *

 

 

          Play had eventually resumed when Sarah had offered to help Rachel up, only to be shot down immediately with a resolute "Touch me one more time and I'll make sure you lose your head as well as your hands". This had been rather uncalled for but it was a mutual understanding between all the clones that Rachel had "yet to emerge into a social butterfly" and was still undergoing the rocky "chrysalis stage", as Cosima had put it when very high one evening. Rachel was a lot like Helena, in that regard, although she was much less prone to stabbing and shooting and was more of a 'stare-out-a-window-and-make-a-dramatic-phone-call-to-organise-someone's-untimely-demise-without-getting-her-own-hands-dirty' kind of woman.

          Unfortunately for Rachel, without Alison as referee the game became rather more _physical_ than she might have liked (and it had already been pretty bad to begin with). Sarah had thrown caution to the wind and was merrily crashing violently into anyone who got in her way, which caused Helena to become rather aggressive and riled up herself. In fact, the twins seemed to be very bad influences on one another, as they both had a tendency towards the unpredictable and destructive, and became a terrible united duo of tackling and trauma. This meant that Rachel was bulldozed to the ground more times than she might have liked to admit. Cosima, in direct contrast, was spared any such indignities as Sarah adamantly refused to cause her any physical discomfort at all and made sure to stop any hostile attempts Helena made in her direction, ("You're only doing that because she has some ridiculously mysterious illness!" Rachel had called unsympathetically at one point, feeling rather hard done by, to which Sarah roared back with equal insensitivity, "YEAH I KNOW, ROBOT BITCH, THAT'S THE POINT.")

           Cosima seemed to find the whole situation hilarious and was generally a laughing mess who had to lean on Delphine for support lest she collapsed to the ground. This worked on the odd occasion that Delphine was actually there to lean _on_ , for both Sarah and Helena had taken it upon themselves to try and tackle _anybody_ in range, whether they were in possession of the ball or not, which unfortunately included Delphine whenever Rachel had already been shoved to the ground.

          "I feel like this is not how soccer was meant to be played," Delphine lamented to Cosima after she was floored for the sixth time, lying on her back feeling more than a little bruised, "your clones, they are crazy."

          Cosima grinned and leant down to help her back to her feet, "I know, puppy. I know."

          However things took a rather drastic turn for the worst when Sarah, indulging in perhaps a little _too much_ adrenaline than was safe, suddenly decided that a sliding tackle in Helena's direction was absolutely the best life choice to make.

          There was a shocked and confused scream of _"seESTRA"_ from Helena as she flew through the air. Everybody froze what they were doing. Even Alison and Felix halted their passionate conversation about musicals from the sidelines and watched in horror as the blonde slammed to the ground. Nobody knew what to do. Nobody knew how Helena would react (although the general guess was that it was going to involve _vengeful_ _murder_ ). Sarah herself couldn't quite seem to comprehend what she'd just done.

          "Oh christ, Helena, I'm sorry."

          There was no reply, which actually proved _more_ worrying than if Helena had sprung to her feet and launched herself at Sarah with five knives, a gun and a rocket launcher in tow.  Sarah got to her feet and cautiously tiptoed closer to her twin, who was essentially just a curled up green parka on the ground.

          "...Helena? You alright?"

          A muffled mumble.

          "Helena?" Sarah repeated, inching closer and nudging her gently with a foot.

          Another mumble which Sarah couldn't quite make out. She could feel the judging eyes of everyone around her. _God, she felt terrible_. She lowered herself to her knees beside Helena, leaning in close and giving her a small prod with a finger. "Helena, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

          "...I'm not happy," came the quiet reply, and Sarah was suddenly reminded of just how childlike Helena was, despite all the aggression and murdering and general violent tendencies.

          She gently tried to pull one of Helena's arms away, which was covering her face, but Helena said _"No,"_ and tugged it back in place again. Sarah chewed on her lip anxiously. "...You did punch me in the face earlier, you know."

          "Go away."

          "I'm sorry, Helena, really. I got a bit carried away."

          "Don't want to talk to you now."

 _This was worse than all the times they'd tried to annihilate each other's existence put together._ Sarah looked around for help. Cosima and Delphine drifted over and Cosima knelt beside Sarah, awkwardly clearing her throat. "Helena, it's Cosima. Are you ok?"

          No reply.

          "...I know Sarah's a big meanie for hurting you. We can all go home now, if you'd like."

          No reply.

          Delphine knelt down. "I...uh, I have a nice Disney DVD we could watch?"

          No reply.

          Alison and Felix made their way over, knelt down beside Helena. "We can play dress up again," Felix offered, "we can even dress up Alison this time." Alison looked a little uneasy about this but after a slight pause and being stared at pleadingly by Sarah, she gave a sigh and added, "Yes, it'd be lots of fun. You can even do my makeup."

          No reply. The group looked at one another hopelessly. _Things were bad._

          Rachel wandered over and came to a halt behind all of them, giving Sarah and Cosima sharp kicks in the side, "Move, move, I'll have her up in a second. You're all useless."

          Nobody looked entirely convinced at this, but seeing as every other effort had been extinguished they begrudgingly got to their feet and huddled to the side of Helena, watching as Rachel sank gracefully to her knees.

          "Helena, this is Rachel Duncan speaking," Rachel began. Everyone exchanged apprehensive glances. "As you probably well know I'm not exactly Sarah's greatest fan. In fact I've dreamt of her death on more than one occasion and woken with a smile on my face. However, she does harbour some qualities that are bordering on likeable, including her odd affection for you despite your murderous inclinations. She is now standing to the side of me looking like a kicked puppy," (here she paused briefly to glance in Delphine's direction and say "No offence intended", to which Delphine looked more than a little lost and confused and Cosima had to bite down hard on her lip to stop from laughing) "and that is because she has hurt you and I dare say she regrets it deeply. No family is perfect and I must point out that you punched her in the face less than a half hour ago and after a slight...tussle, she forgave you entirely. This leads me to believe that if you could find it in your heart to forgive her for tackling you, matters would be amended until your next fight with one another which, given your past track records, will probably be within the next hour or so."

          A slight pause. No response.

          "It would be entirely more preferable and productive if you were on your feet rather than sulking in a heap on the ground is what I'm trying to say, Helena."

          Still no response. Rachel sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, as if mustering up all her energy and willpower to formulate her next words. When they came out, they gave the impression that Rachel was exceptionally exasperated with the world around her and all those who inhabited it, "There is jell-o in the cooler bag in the car, if you would like some."

          That was apparently all Helena had needed to hear, as she was immediately on her feet and heading towards the car, pausing only to turn around and grab Sarah's hand in a rather grumpy sort of way and drag her along too. There were a few garbled mutters of "Bad seestra," and "You made me unhappy" before the two were soon out of earshot, Sarah glancing disbelievingly back at Rachel once or twice. _Had the proclone actually just lowered herself to her knees, given a small monologue and then referenced jell-o to get Helena back to her feet again? Since when did Rachel even like Helena?! Since when did Rachel Duncan do anything for anyone else?_

          Rachel had straightened up and brushed herself down, looking as expressionless and unmoved as always. She turned to face the others, who were all staring at her in silent wonder. "We are leaving then?"

          They all gave a united, slow nod.

          "Good," was all Rachel had to say to that, and she was soon walking after Helena and Sarah in the dramatic and vaguely intimidating way of hers.   

          It took the entire group a few days to come to grips with what had happened and process the startling information that Rachel _did_ have feelings after all, including a mild understanding of compassion and consideration for others. Helena, mouth full of jell-o, had stared at everyone for a moment and then said that she'd known that all along, and if you looked at Rachel when she was sat on her own during one of their game or movie nights you'd realise she was probably just lonely. This seemed to be a bit of a bombshell for everyone else, and they had sat in a stunned sort of silence, only broken by the sounds of Helena noisily re-engaging with her jell-o and Sarah murmuring "Well, _shite_ " to herself in disbelief.

         

* * *

 

 

          Though it hadn't seemed it at the time (in fact it had seemed quite the opposite what with all the yelling and fighting), Alison's soccer match actually _had_ managed to bring everyone closer together. Well, closer to Rachel at least, despite her instinctive attempts to dissuade people from engaging with her at all.

          ("You 'wanna go like...bowling or something?"

          "I'd rather hire my own hitmen to kill me, quite frankly Sarah.")

          Regardless of Rachel's unwavering determination to _not_ become part of the clone club family, everyone did their best to include her during game nights (although she adamantly refused to play twister or charades) and Sarah made sure to squash herself beside the proclone during movie nights, despite Rachel's protests of "This is hideous, please remove yourself" and "Offer me popcorn one more time, Sarah, and I'll throw the tub at your head".

         Helena and Rachel had also seemed to have reached some kind of strange understanding and acceptance for one another's existence, and on the odd occasion they could be found sat in the living area together. Well, 'sat' wasn't quite right. It was more Helena having pulled Rachel away from a window, pushed her onto a sofa and forced herself halfway into Rachel's lap, whereupon she'd attempt to read a chapter from one of her books to the proclone or talk enthusiastically about her day and ask Rachel how hers was. Rachel usually sat there looking vaguely confused and alarmed but every once in awhile a hint of a smile tugged at her lips and she looked less like the emotionless corporate proclone everybody had come to expect and more like a person who had simply found a friend.

         (Or in this case, had friendship forced upon her.)     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Helena and Rachel are stupidly similar in some respects and I firmly believe they'd see that in each other and slowly become weirdly attached (although Rachel would never admit it in a thousand years and try to remain as aloof as possible).


	5. Emails of a Proclone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a sneak-peek into Rachel's inbox (she's forced everyone in the house to contact her via email instead of text - it's more formal and 'official'), there's a mass hunt for a missing book, and Sarah does something so terrible it makes Rachel go full hulk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically I'm heading back to university tomorrow for exams and stuff and I don't know when I'll have time to update this again. So I quickly smooshed this chapter together to tide you all over until I get round to writing the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 

**Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction**

* * *

 

_**Five.** _

**_Emails of a Proclone_ **

* * *

**** ****

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          Hey, I really need that book on natural selection back. I was only halfway through and it had some rad stuff in it. Also technically it's Delphine's and I was borrowing it. Also technically I was borrowing it without her knowledge and she keeps trying to find it and she's getting like crazy confused and stressed about it. Also technically she was borrowing it from the library and it's overdue and now she's been fined like $5 or something. So there's a bit of a chain reaction going on and it's totally not cool.

 

          Like it's not my fault Sarah keeps calling you a nerd. Also not my fault she's started yelling "SLAM DUNCAN" every time you throw one of your scrunched up bits of paper in the bin.

 

          Displacing your anger onto other people instead of dealing with the root of the problem isn't healthy. There's a whole book about it I read a couple of terms ago.

 

          Actually it's really good, you should probably borrow it. A lot of stuff about whether violence and aggression is genetic too. I'd like to hear your thoughts on it.

 

          I mean, like, after you've given me my other book back. Delphine's book. Whatever.

 

          We're not on geeking-out-together terms until then.       

 

          Ollie out.

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          No, you may not have your book back. You will suffer until Sarah comes to heel.

 

          I would like to look at that book on violence and aggression, however, so actually we're both suffering and it's Sarah's fault entirely.

 

          I have attached a link to a petition to evict Sarah from the house, which you may sign if you wish.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          Did you sign that petition a hundred times??????

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          I'm very passionate about the matter.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan; Alison Hendrix; Sarah Manning; Helena

From: Delphine Cormier

 

          Hello, I am sorry for the inconvenience but have any of you seen a book on natural selection in the house recently? I can't find it and it is overdue at the library.

 

          Delphine

 

* * *

 

To: Delphine Cormier

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          No.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Aldous Leekie

 

          What is the news on the house sharing experiment? I noticed you haven't updated any of the notes in three days. Has something happened?

 

          Dr. Leekie.

 

* * *

 

To: Aldous Leekie

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Aldous please stop emailing me with such petty concerns. Rest assured I shall update the notes when there is something to update about.

 

          They all lead very uninteresting lives. Alison spoke to me about oatmeal porridge for two hours yesterday and I almost became comatose.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Sarah Manning

 

          Oi nerd, where've you hidden that book? Delphine's too busy turning the house upside down for Cosima to get any so now they're both stressy as shit.

 

          You're ruining lives, Duncan. Ruining lives.

 

* * *

 

To: Sarah Manning

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Perhaps if you curbed your disagreeable behaviour the book would somehow find its way back to Cosima and Delphine's room.

 

          As it is, its location will remain a well kept secret.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Sarah Manning

 

          Don't make me bombard you with hundreds of messages again cos I will - and we both know how unorganized it'll make your inbox and how twitchy you'll get.

 

* * *

 

To: Sarah Manning

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          You are treading on very thin ice.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Sarah Manning

 

          Shite, call the cops, I'm terrified.

 

* * *

 

To: Sarah Manning

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          I could hold an entire meeting about terminating you as a test subject and still sleep soundly at night. Don't test me.

 

          Rachel Duncan

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Sarah Manning

 

          Well you know me, Rachel, I've always been a bit of a daredevil.

         

          Email bombardment starts in 3... 2...

 

* * *

 

To: Sarah Manning

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          I will make your life so unbearable that people will start to mistake me for your evil clone instead of Helena.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Sarah Manning

**(50 NEW MESSAGES)**

 

          ...1.

 

          It all starts here.

 

          It can stop here as well, you just gotta tell me where the book is.

 

          I'll do this all day, like I'm bored and there's nothing else to do.

 

          I can hear your inbox pinging from my room.

 

          You annoyed yet?

 

          Also have you been working _all day_ cos I heard you get up at 5 this morning and you haven't left the kitchen table since.

 

          That's insane like don't you get bored?

 

          What're you even typing about?

 

          Are you typing about me?

 

          Are you typing up notes about me?

 

          Fuck, you don't have a crush on me do you?

 

          Shite.

 

          Hey, if I peer round my door and look down the hallway I can see you sat at the table.

 

          Rachel, look at me.

          Rachel.

 

          I can see you.

 

          Hey Rachel.

 

          Proclone geek.

 

          [Rachel Duncan voice] HELLO. RACHEL DUNCAN.

 

          Christ your hair is so weird from so many angles.

 

          Rachel.

 

          Come on, Rachel. Look my way. Stare into my big brown eyes.

 

          Your typing is getting more aggressive. Am I right or am I right.

 

          Rachel I can stop anytime. Just tell me where the book is.

 

          Rachel.

 

          Give me attention.

 

          Give in.

 

          Just this once.

 

          Rachel.

 

          Hand the power to me, it's ok. I got this.

 

          All you gotta do is open a new message, type in where you've hidden the book and then send it to me.

 

          It'll take you less than a minute.

 

          And then all this'll stop and your inbox will be back to its usual ordered self.

 

          Or maybe you like this?

 

          You got a special folder for all my emails?

 

          With a star next to it?

 

          Cos you've got a crush on me?

 

          Rachel.

 

          You feeling a bit out of control?

 

          Sucks man.

 

          Also yo, have you always worn heels since birth?

 

          They look painful.

 

          Very aggressive like your hair.

 

          Ah shite.

 

          My laptop's gonna run out of battery and I lent my charger to Cosima.

 

          Yeah so you've won the battle but you haven't won the war.

 

          I'll be back.

 

          [Rachel Duncan voice] WE ARE GOING TO COME TO TERMS.

 

          Big proclone dork.

         

* * *

 

To: Sarah Manning

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          I am plotting your untimely demise as I type this.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          excuse me hello no i don't know about book

 

* * *

 

To: Helena

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Helena, this is Rachel Duncan. You've sent your message to the wrong person again. Please find Cosima and ask her for assistance.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          who is cosmina

* * *

To: Helena

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          You know who Cosima is. We have lived with her for two weeks. She's the one with glasses and dreadlocks who swings her hands around as if she's in shock from having an apoplexy whenever she speaks.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          hello excuse me i don't know where book is

 

* * *

 

To: Helena

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          This is still Rachel Duncan. You've sent the message to me again.

 

          **Please find Cosima.**

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          i don't know about book i only have bible and very hungry caterpillar

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Would you please find Helena and help her with her emails. She's repeatedly sending messages to me instead of Delphine.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          I'm not doing anything until you give me that book back, ayyyyyy.

* * *

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          book not here i'm sorry

* * *

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          I can't give you the book until Sarah apologises and improves her conduct. It's a matter of principle.

 

          However the situation with Helena is rather dire and your help in the matter would be appreciated.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          No can do, sorry. Gotta have that book for Delphine.

* * *

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Alison Hendrix

 

          Sorry to interrupt but Helena keeps emailing me instead of you. Something about Cosima having an apoplexy? I'm assuming she's got the wrong end of the stick again - BUT PLEASE INFORM ME IMMEDIATELY IF COSIMA **IS** HAVING AN APOPLEXY!!!!!!

 

          I hope your work is going well,

 

          A. Hendrix

 

* * *

 

To: Alison Hendrix

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Cosima is not having an apoplexy, there is no need to worry yourself.

 

          Helena is also emailing me instead of Delphine. I've asked Cosima for assistance but she has declined. Perhaps you can sway her on the matter better than I can?

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

 To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          i have moss and twig

* * *

To: Alison Hendrix

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          A brief update into the Helena situation: She apparently has moss and at least one twig, which leads me to believe she is attempting to construct a nest for birds in her room again.

 

          We all know how that ended last time so I suggest a more urgent response from Cosima if at all possible and also the inclusion of Sarah.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Alison Hendrix

 

          Cosima is on the move as I type this and I've texted Sarah.

 

          A. Hendrix

* * *

 To: Alison Hendrix

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Sarah managed to break her mobile yesterday, if you recall. She accidentally dropped it into Felix's drink because she is an idiot.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Alison Hendrix

 

          Oh effing christ. I can't find her and there are pigeons in Helena's room.

 

          A. Hendrix

* * *

 To: Rachel Duncan

From: Alison Hendrix

 

          I REPEAT THERE ARE PIGEONS IN HELENA'S ROOM.

 

          A. Hendrix

* * *

 To: Alison Hendrix

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Sarah is literally in her room, I can see her peering round her door and laughing.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Alison Hendrix

 

          Oh yes, my mistake. Thanks for the help.

 

          A. Hendrix

 

* * *

 

To: Alison Hendrix

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Please stop talking to her about your oatmeal porridge and start tackling the pigeon invasion. I can hear you from here.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Alison Hendrix

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Cosima is also screaming and the two of you seem too wrapped up in your conversation to notice.

 

          If she was not suffering from an apoplexy before, she might be now.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Alison Hendrix

 

          Yes alright - we're on it!

 

          A. Hendrix

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          the people are here and they make me send a sorry email to you. i am sorry for the messages about book. they show me how to use email again. cosmina is here and she has dreadlocks like you said and its nice. i felt one and it was soft. they have taken my birds away.

 

* * *

 

To: Helena

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Apology noted.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          i also found book and cosmina was happy. she said you would be mad and everyone is celebrating.

 

* * *

 

To: Helena

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Where did you find the book and how?

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

          looking in garden for bird things and it was there in bush

 

* * *

 

To: Helena

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          This is highly unfortunate and you have ruined many of my plans.

 

          You may not sit in my lap for the foreseeable future.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Helena

 

           this is ok i have jello. seestra gave it to me as prize for finding book. she is going to teach me about different birds now goodbye

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          Yo we found the book no thanks to you, so you can stop acting all high and mighty.

 

          Also Sarah told me to tell you: 'Suck on that Rachel Dun ** _can't'_**.

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          How very clever.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          Hey, we're all still in Helena's room and Delphine's here too. We're telling Helena about all the birds there are. She only thought there were like three different kinds of bird so her mind is BLOWN.

 

          Like hella birds, am I right?

 

          Anyway, you wanna come join?

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          No thank you, I am still working.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          Awww come on! Alison's doing bird call impressions and it's the best thing I've ever seen.

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          Absolutely not.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          We're in a heap on the bed and we've left room for you. Helena even said "Where is window woman?"

 

          (She means you.)

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          That is not my name.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

 

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          I'm sensing negative vibes so I've sent Sarah to come and get you.

 

          She's like your fav, right?

 

* * *

 

To: Cosima Niehaus

From: Rachel Duncan

 

          I've never disliked anybody more.

 

          Rachel Duncan.

* * *

 

To: Rachel Duncan

From: Cosima Niehaus

 

          Great, well I'll see you soon. We've got jello.

 

          Ollie _OUT._

 

* * *

 

 

          It was the middle of the night. Everybody had fallen asleep on Helena's bed, in a very haphazard yet oddly comfortable manner. Even Rachel was tucked in firmly between Alison and Helena, having eventually given in to everyone's pleads for her to stay on the grounds that they all shut up, stopped complaining and let her get some rest so she could continue her work early in the morning.

 

          She looked remarkably relaxed and content when she was unconscious, Sarah thought to herself as she cautiously edged out of the bed and tiptoed to the door, but then that was probably because it was the only time her brain stopped working at double time, formulating a million little plans as if she were presiding over  an immense game of chess.

 

          _But she hadn't planned for this._

          Sarah grinned mischievously as she darted into the kitchen, sitting at the head of the table where Rachel had left her laptop open (having been unceremoniously dragged away from it earlier by Sarah). Unfortunately the screen was now blank, so Sarah wiggled the cursor until the log in screen popped up.

 

_Shite, what would Rachel's password be?_

 

          Sarah paused. Looked deep in thought. Hovered her fingertips over the keyboard and then -

 

          SLAM DUNCAN

 

          Rachel's inbox popped up immediately. Sarah smirked. She _knew_ Rachel liked that nickname really.

 

          But now was not the time to dwell on that. She didn't have long, what with Rachel automatically waking up at five in the morning to get her first hit of coffee for the day. No, _now was time to - !_

 

* * *

 

        

          It was at exactly 5:08am when everyone in the house was awoken by a terrible, anguished wail that sounded as if it had come from the pits of Hell itself. It was a sound that set everyone's hearts racing in fear and confusion because it had come from Rachel Duncan - _and Rachel Duncan did not wail._

 

          What had happened to make her lose her cool temperament? What possible hideous spectacle could she have been confronted with?

 

          The group stumbled out of Helena's room and down the hallway, with the exception of Sarah who was conveniently missing. Alison was leading at the front, brandishing one of Helena's stuffed toys in the optimistic hope it might be useful to hurl at the potential danger they were charging into. However, when they arrived at the scene of the crime there seemed to be no threat of danger at all. In fact nothing seemed to be different than usual except for Rachel staring at her laptop screen as if her entire world had come crashing down around her.

 

          "Hey, what's happened?" Cosima asked, thinking Rachel might have received some terrible news from DYAD that concerned all of them.

 

          This was not the case however. Something far more dreadful had happened.

 

          Rachel rose to her feet, her grief quickly spiralling into rage. Her eyes snapped to the door at the end of the hallway, two words erupting from her mouth with such venom it didn't seem possible, "SARAH MANNING."

 

          The group quickly moved out of her way as she stormed towards Sarah's room, slamming the door open. She was barely even recognizable as Rachel, such was her loss of control over her emotions. The door just as quickly shut itself again, so nobody saw what happened inside but there were definite sounds of a struggle and Sarah yelling, "IT WAS A PRANK YOU FUCKIN' DORK, NOT A DECLARATION OF WAR" and "WHERE DID THAT GUN EVEN COME FROM."

 

          Cosima had leant forwards to take a look at the laptop screen and after a moment or two of scrolling she let out a small "...Ah."

 

          Alison and Delphine huddled closer to her, trying to get a better view of the laptop themselves, whilst Helena took the seat. The group stared at the screen. Saw Rachel's inbox. Saw the folders which had been relabelled various things ('BORING', 'MORE BORING', 'SCIENCE I GUESS', 'NERD STUFF', 'I LOVE SARAH', 'ONE PICTURE OF A CAT FROM HELENA', 'PROCLONE THINGS', 'RACHEL IS A DORK', 'BUTTS' - the list went on). Saw the jumbled ordering system. Everything was dated incorrectly. Everything that had been sent from Sarah had been flagged as HIGHLY IMPORTANT. It was a mess and it would take hours to go through and reorganise.

 

          A scream of pain and the sound of something smashing into a wall.

 

          Everyone exchanged glances.

 

          "Back to bed then?" Alison suggested, "I have earplugs."

 

          Cosima and Delphine nodded. "You too, meathead," Cosima said, taking Helena's hand and guiding her down the hallway. The four of them snuggled back into Helena's bed and Alison dished out the earplugs.

 

          "Will seestra be ok?" Helena asked before everyone put them in.

 

          The faint sound of somebody choking.

 

          "Yeah," Cosima replied, unperturbed, as everybody got settled, "she and Rachel just need to go through a bit of damage control to work out who's top dog."

 


	6. TXTS OF A PR0CLON3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rachel's workplace behaviour comes under fire, Cosima and Sarah have extended beef, Alison indulges in an outburst about Beth, Felix enjoys making witty offhand remarks, Helena gets lost in a fridge and there's a general feeling of shade in Delphine and Siobhan's directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author is sorry this chapter took so long, but she hopes you'll forgive her because she's been going through a rough patch in her family life as both her mum and grandma have become very ill. She's also just finished university and been awarded a 2:1 in English and American Literature, which is wonderful but she's now mega bummed out about finishing student life which was literally the most indescribably amazing experience ever.
> 
> To make up for the long absence, the author has made this chapter HELLA LONG. Like get yourself a cup of tea or coffee and some cake and get comfortable because your ass is gonna be sat down for some true time.
> 
> The author also hopes she's still hip enough to remember txt speak and also finally remembers Sarah has an accent that drops the ending letter of some words and attempts to fix it from here on out.

         "So, like, do you think it started ironically?"

 

          "I haven't really thought about it. It irritates Daniel, I suppose, so that made it more appealing to begin with."

 

          "Right, right," Cosima nodded enthusiastically, exhaling smoke which coiled lazily into the air, "so now it's gone too far and it's totally impacting your work life, am I right?"

 

          Rachel, seated on the sofa opposite, eyed her clone closely, "I'd like to make it clear that I'm invaluable to DYAD and _nothing_ I do could cause them to think negatively of my professionalism."

 

          "Oh sure, sure, but-"

 

          "But it has made certain...ripples in the office, yes."

 

          "Not cool," Cosima deduced with another nod, stretching her legs out onto the coffee table. Rachel viewed her bare feet with evident distaste but was apparently too focused on her own problems to cause an audible fuss.

 

          "It's quicker, so I don't really see what the problem is," the proclone said, gaze naturally drifting to the side and out of the window, "they're always talking about cost-cutting and efficiency so here I am making the necessary changes and yet nobody will follow my lead."

 

          "That's 'cos you're a dork, Duncan," came a cheerful voice, which inspired a deep sense of loathing and hatred within Rachel whenever she had the misfortune to hear it.

 

          "Manning," Rachel acknowledged stiffly, refusing to tear her gaze away from the window as if to make her presence seem all the more dramatic and aloof.

 

          "Ain't foolin' anyone, Ray Ray, we all know you're pleased to see me," Sarah said with a grin, hopping over the back of Cosima's sofa and seating herself comfortably beside her, "what're you two nerds talkin' about anyway?"

 

          "Like, misinterpreted communication, social conventions and expected normative behaviour in workplace environments-"

 

          "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cosima. In English, you weirdo."

 

          "Oh, right," Cosima waved her hands vaguely around in the air for a moment as she grasped for wording more on Sarah's level, "like, I guess, texting."

 

          "Textin'?"

 

          "Right."

 

          "All you were tryin' to say was textin'?"

 

          "Yeah, dude."

 

          Sarah stared at Cosima. Stared long and hard. Stared as if she was unable to quite process the fact they were biologically identical. Slowly turned her attention to Rachel, who was still staring intently out the window, "Thought you didn't like textin', Duncan?"

 

          "Incorrect as usual, Sarah. I simply don't like texting any of you."

 

          _"Owch,"_ Sarah said in feigned pain, clutching at her heart as if mortally wounded, "oh shite, I don't know how I'll cope with the news, Cos."

 

          "It's a bummer for sure," Cosima replied, grinning mischievously and wriggling her bared toes as if to try and inspire a little more annoyance out of the emotionless proclone before them.

 

          "You both lack maturity and I refuse to continue this conversation any longer," Rachel announced, attention finally torn from the window as she prepared to elegantly get to her feet and sweep out of the room.

 

          Sarah, as always, had other ideas. "Oi, don't be so skittish, we're only playin'," she said, holding her hands up in innocence, "not our fault you haven't been feelin' all dominant like since I kicked your ass over that email prank."

 

          "Which makes it the _second_ time you've had your ass kicked by Sarah," Cosima added helpfully and not without a slight hint of admiration.

 

          "I did not have my 'ass kicked'," Rachel replied gracefully, though her tone had a rather more dangerous edge to it, "I made tactful decisions based on the circumstances I was thrown into."

 

          "Uh, you literally threw _yourself_ into the second ass kickin' and you were too busy being knocked out to make any 'tactful decisions' during the first ass kickin'," Sarah commented matter-of-factly, "you _definitely_ had your ass kicked both times. By me."

 

          Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She'd never been one to accept the embarrassing truths in her life, instead rejecting them for a controlled, somewhat artificial sort of existence that relied heavily on an inflated sense of self-importance. "You're just jealous that I don't send _you_ any texts."

 

          "Like fuck I am."

 

          "In fact you're always seeking my attention. It's rather tiresome."

 

          "Why'd I want any texts from you, you big proclone dork?"

 

          Rachel didn't reply, but a very vague hint of a smile was tugging at her lips. A smile that said _triumph_.

 

          Sarah couldn't stand it. Sarah _wouldn't_ stand it.

 

          "You shut your face, Duncan."

 

          "I'm not saying anything."

 

          "Yeah, well I know what you're thinkin'."

 

          "I highly doubt that." 

 

          "I don't want any of your shitty texts, alright?"

 

          "Yes, you've made that quite clear," Rachel replied good-naturedly, "A bit _too_ clear-"

 

          "Duncan, I'll punch you in the face-"

 

          "Hey, hey, hey, guys, _hey_ ," Cosima interrupted, flailing her hands about with such enthusiasm she almost slapped Sarah in the face, "no more fighting. We're supposed to be pulling together, not biting each other's heads off. Like, the tension you two create is unreal."

 

          "Yeah well you're the resident stoner," Sarah snapped back, swatting at Cosima's flying hands irritably, "maybe you should put your talents to good use and roll another for Rachel-"

 

          "Rachel? _High?"_ The idea seemed entirely mindboggling and implausible to the dreadlocked clone. She glanced briefly in Rachel's direction, in a sort of bewildered and almost disorientated manner, before focusing once more on the brunette beside her. And _holy shit, Sarah's expression was deadly serious_. No. No, no, no, no. Cosima wouldn't have it. The sheer _insanity_ of Sarah's suggestion had to be explained. There were hard facts behind Cosima's reasoning - _science to be shared._

 

          There was no time to lose. Apparently having forgotten Rachel was still in the room with them, or perhaps having just relegated such knowledge to the back of her mind in the name of _explaining things because she was always right and Sarah wasn't,_ Cosima's hand movements became so erratic she threatened to take off entirely.

 

          _"She barely moves as it is, Sarah,"_ Cosima began emphatically, every gesture a blur, "like she could technically be classified as comatose, you know? Some of the notes on her got sent to Delphine by accident - I know, right? I'll forward them to you they're _hella rad_ \- and it turns out it was _routine procedure for colleagues to think she'd died during meetings._ Like, because she just literally wouldn't move for hours at a time. There's whole case files of high powered business people _totally losing their shit_ because she's just sat in her chair with her eyes staring out towards a window unblinkingly and it doesn't even look like she's breathing and people have called for ambulances, Sarah. _People have called for ambulances._ That's how catatonic she can be. I mean you've seen it yourself, the only time she moves is to drift over to stand by a window if shit's going down or she gets a phone call. It totally isn't normal and I don't want to be held responsible for exaggerating any odd behaviours she already has, ok? I mean I'd _love_ to rig her up to some neuroimaging equipment and see what happens if she had a joint but like, from a medical and scientific viewpoint, I think chances are she'd reach some kind of insane nirvana like level of detachment and apathy and just straight up _die-"_

 

          _"I'm still here,"_ Rachel commented icily, shooting a glare towards Cosima that was so intense it caused the clone's elaborate hand gestures to freeze midair.

 

          "I...uh...yeah, right, sorry," Cosima said awkwardly, her hands slowly and gingerly being lowered by Sarah, "got a bit carried away, I guess."

 

          Rachel made no reply but continued to glare as if her entire life depended on it. Cosima gave a dorky, apologetic grin. Rachel's eyes narrowed. Cosima's expression descended into a frown. Rachel didn't blink. Cosima glowered back at her. The tension between the two was _so_ apparent it felt like an actual physical force pressing down on everyone.

 

          Sarah glanced between the two, wondering briefly if this was how everyone else felt when she and Rachel got locked into one of their staring contests. She cleared her throat after a few seconds, hoping to diffuse the situation with a few carefully placed words, "Bet you can't text for shit, Duncan."

 

          "I'm more than adequate at texting actually, thank you," Rachel replied, not breaking Cosima's gaze for a second, " _and_ smoking."

 

          To this breaking news Cosima let out a slightly disbelieving, but nonetheless thrilled, comment of _"No way,"_ and found herself becoming instantly more interested in Rachel's existence than she had only a few seconds before.

 

          Sarah, however, didn't seem to be as invested in the revelation as her dreadlocked clone was, instead remaining far more concerned about Rachel's texting situation. _"Pfft,_ whatever," she said with a shrug, leaning forwards to grab a handful of crisps from the bowl on the coffee table, "probably takes you like a year to type a message."

 

          "Incorrect again, Sarah. My problems stem from typing messages _too_ efficiently."

 

          "How the hell d'ya type a message _too efficiently?"_

          "Text speak," Cosima clarified with a lazy grin, in a slightly dreamy tone that indicated her imagination was still running riot with the possibilities of a high Rachel Duncan,  "she uses it all the time. The turtle emoji's get totally annoying after a day or two though."

 

          Sarah didn't quite know which part of Cosima's explanation was the most offensive and, after a second or two of severe inner struggle and turmoil, she decided it was all of it. "Wait...she...you... _does_ _she text you?_ You text each other?"

 

          "Yeah, dude. For like, two weeks now."

 

          "You text each other and Miss Cold Bitch over here uses text speak?"

 

          "Yeah, it's cool man."

 

          "No this isn't 'cool', Cos, it's _fuckin' weird-"_

 

          "Do I detect a hint of jealousy again, Sarah?" Rachel's velvety voice interrupted, eyes now resting on the other clone as a very vague expression of amusement flit across her face.

 

          Sarah scowled back at her, "No."

 

          "I think I do."

 

          "Yeah well you don't."

 

          "She texts _all of us_ now," Cosima said, blissfully unaware of the total and utter annihilation of Sarah's dignity beside her, "like keep up on the hype, Sarah."

 

          Unfortunately for everyone, Sarah evidently had _no_ intentions of 'keeping up on the hype' in a calm and rational manner. She was instead doing her best not to feel mortally offended, which was an endeavour that proved impossible when faced with a Rachel Duncan who was just _exuding_ smugness and triumph. In fact that was a natural air that seemed to follow Rachel wherever she went, but it was particularly prominent _now_.

 

          "Well why the fuck didn't I get the memo that Lady Icicle Tits over here has started textin' instead of emailin'?" Sarah demanded unhappily, looking like a child about to indulge in a tantrum.

 

          "I don't know, I just assumed you knew," Cosima replied, feeling rather under attack for something that wasn't her fault, "we've got a Whatsapp group and everything."

 

          "Oh for fuck's sake, Cos!"

 

          "Yell at her, not me!"

 

          "You could've added me to the group, y'know! Christ, would've thought you'd be usin' that inflated brain of yours to figure somethin' like that out. Not exactly rocket science is it-"

 

          Cosima took a moment to stare deeply and heartrendingly into Sarah's eyes, "I won't apologise for my Whatsapp groups, ok?"

 

          To this, Sarah seemed to be under a very great strain to control herself and _not_ punch Cosima directly in the face. Had it been anyone else she might have engaged in a full on brawl but Cosima was ill and also adjusting her glasses and doing her stupid dorky scrunched up turtle face, so Sarah decided to simply take a deep, calming breath and reply, "Shittin' hell, Cos, you've gotta stop usin' that as an excuse for everythin'."

 

          Before Cosima had time to leap to her own defence, however, there was a sudden buzzing noise from Sarah's direction. Sarah looked as equally surprised as her dreadlocked clone at the sound and fumbled about in a pocket to retrieve her mobile. Glancing down at the screen, she saw:

 

**SlamDuncan//10:42AM**

          BABY

 

          A very long pause as the message sunk in. Sarah slowly raised her head to meet Rachel's emotionless eyes, mobile still clutched tightly in her grasp. "...The fuck, Rachel?"

 

          "I think I made my sentiments on the matter quite clear."

 

          "This is the first text you willingly send me and you're callin' me a baby?"

 

          "No, that's not what I said."

 

          "Totally exactly what you said," Cosima responded, having leant into Sarah to get a good view of the mobile screen.

 

          "You tryin' to start a fight with me or hit on me, Ray Ray, 'cos I'm kinda confused over here-"

 

          "Being annoyed by you," Rachel interrupted firmly and exasperatedly, as if she'd spent a lifetime surrounded by complete imbeciles, "that's what it means."

 

          A moment of quiet reflection. Cosima let out an interested acknowledgment of _"Hm,"_ as if moderately impressed with Rachel's text speak savvy, while Sarah continued down her well trodden track of annoyance and disbelief at the proclone's existence by replying, "Nah that's bullshit, I haven't heard of that kinda text speak before and I've been in _drug rings-"_

 

          "I'm very well versed in text speak, thank you Sarah. I know what I'm talking about," Rachel's calm voice cut in, in an almost dismissive manner that suggested she didn't rate Sarah's opinion at all. Her gaze shifted back to the window, which never failed to hold her attention above all else, and she gave a small, content sigh that erred on the side of victory.

 

          A few minutes of silence. Cosima had nestled comfortably into Sarah's side and was idly flicking through a science magazine all about evolution and DNA. Sarah, who had been glowering at Rachel's side profile, lowered her head and began focusing intently on her mobile once again.

 

          _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

_Bzzzzzzz._

 

          Rachel slowly tore her gaze away from the window and looked at her mobile.

 

          **PunkRockHo//10:51AM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

* * *

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:25AM**

          It is with great annoyance that I must inform you that DYAD Institute is being dragged into yet _another_ legal battle about 'ethics' and 'morally grey areas'. I don't know what the fuss is all about - something about human testing gone wrong????

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:26AM**

          Idk.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:26AM**

          Rachel, we've already talked about this. Text speak isn't really suitable when discussing work related matters.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:27AM**

          Idc.

         

          **SlamDuncan//11:27AM**

          It saves time.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:29AM**

          We'll discuss this further during the next board meeting.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:29AM**

          What I really wanted to tell you is that we're holding a conference in a week so I can give another speech about pushing the boundaries of science and how it's our _duty_ to explore the possibilities of neolution.

         

          **FreakyLeekie//11:30AM**

          Reassure the media and keep the peace and all that.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:30AM**

          It would be appreciated if you were on board and also gave a presentation.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:31AM**

          Ofc.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:31M**

          Time?

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:32AM**

          My speech is at noon and will last an hour. There is a 1:30pm - 2:00pm slot available before Marion Bowles gives a brief speech via skype.

 

**SlamDuncan//11:32AM**

          O gr8, another condescending Bowles prezzo.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:32AM**

          I'm going to pretend I didn't read that, Rachel. But there are only so many times I can remind you that she is our superior without there being repercussions.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:32AM**

          W/eva.I'm on board.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:33AM**

          Good. What will your presentation be titled?

 

**SlamDuncan//11:33AM**

          Double Glazing our Future through Neolution

         

          **FreakyLeekie//11:34AM**

          Double glazing???

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:35AM**

          Sry.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:35AM**

          I meant safeguarding.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:35AM**

          Got distracted.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:36AM**

          They have beautiful windows here tho, u should come & see 4 urself.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:37AM**

          I've said this before and I feel I must say it again, our HR team is more than happy to help you with any issues you are going through. Including obsessive tendencies towards windows.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:39AM**

          H/P.

 

          **FreakyLeekie//11:41AM**

          'Hold Please' is not an acceptable response, Rachel.

 

          **SlamDuncan//11:41AM**

          H/P.

 

**FreakyLeekie//11:41AM**

          This behaviour really does have to stop at some point, you know.

 

* * *

 

          **TopSide//12:00PM**

          Rachel this is Marion Bowles. You do realize that I can read all of your texts, don't you? It was in the confidentiality agreement you signed. Right at the bottom in tiny letters. On a separate page that was still in my office where you possibly couldn't have seen it.

 

          **SlamDuncan//12:00PM**

          H/P.

 

          **TopSide//12:01PM**

          Not appropriate behaviour, Rachel.

 

          **SlamDuncan//12:01PM**

          H/P.

 

          **TopSide//12:01PM**

          Not appropriate.

 

* * *

 

          **SoccerBitch//12:09PM**

          Can you please stop changing the room temperature to 69? It's too warm and Sarah won't stop making inappropriate jokes.

**SlamDuncan//12:15PM**

          No it's the perf temp.

**SoccerBitch//12:18PM**

          Can we lower it by one degree? Just one?

**SlamDuncan//12:18PM**

          No.

 

          **SlamDuncan//12:18PM**

          68 is inexcusable.

**SoccerBitch//12:19PM**

          Is this about that time Sarah broke into your apartment?

**SlamDuncan//12:21:PM**

          I have ur files on my laptop screen & I'm ready 2 authorise ur termination.

**SoccerBitch//12:21PM**

          69 is fine.

 

* * *

**GeekMonkey//13:42PM**

          did you take the saliva samples i collected from everyone?????

 

          **GeekMonkey//13:42PM**

          not cool

 

**SlamDuncan//13:43PM**

          DYAD repossessed them.

 

**GeekMonkey//13:44PM**

          repossessed them????????

 

          **GeekMonkey//13:44PM**        

          that's not a thing

 

**GeekMonkey//13:44PM**

          like totally not a thing

**SlamDuncan//13:46PM**

          Don't question me.

 

**GeekMonkey//13:47PM**

          i want them back

 

**SlamDuncan//13:47PM**

          No.

 

**GeekMonkey//13:47PM**

          you're literally so difficult

 

**SlamDuncan//13:47PM**

          Ur so difficult.

 

**GeekMonkey//13:48PM**

          this isn't constructive rachel

 

**SlamDuncan//13:50PM**

          [turtle emoji]

 

**GeekMonkey//13:51PM**

          stop doing that!!!!!!

 

**SlamDuncan//13:51PM**

          [turtle emoji]

 

* * *

**AngryAngel//14:00PM**

          no milk

 

**SlamDuncan//14:00PM**

          Is that a question or a statement?

 

**AngryAngel//14:01PM**

          where to find milk

 

**SlamDuncan//14:01PM**

          Helena this isn't Google

 

**AngryAngel//14:02PM**

          no milk in fridge

 

**SlamDuncan//14:02PM**

          Just go 2 shop & buy more

 

**AngryAngel//14:03PM**

          i am lost

 

**SlamDuncan//14:03PM**

          No ur not Helena, I can c u looking in the fridge.

 

          **SlamDuncan//14:03PM**

          I'm literally sat @ the kitchen table behind u.

 

          **AngryAngel//14:05PM**

          it is cold and no milk and ham

 

          **AngryAngel//14:06PM**

          where is kitchen table

 

          **SlamDuncan//14:06PM**

          Behind u.

 

          **SlamDuncan//14:07PM**

          No Helena. BEHIND U.

 

          **SlamDuncan//14:07PM**

          That's not behind u that's in front of u.

 

          **SlamDuncan//14:07PM**

          No Helena.

 

          **SlamDuncan//14:08PM**

          NO.

 

* * *

 

          **CloneClub Whatsapp Group**

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Assistance pls. (14:09)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          How can I help? (14:09)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          No not u. (14:10)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          Oh. (14:10)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Ur not even a clone.

          U don't go here. (14:10)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          dude, she's an honorary member

          like chillax she's my girlfriend (14:11)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          yeah back off bitch tits (14:11)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          sick one sarah (14:11)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          ayyyyy (14:11)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          aaAAAYYYYYYYYY (14:12)

 

**Rachel Duncan**

          Brb. (14:12)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          AAAAYYYYY (14:12)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          oh puppy no, you can't do that (14:12)

 

**Delphine Cormier**

          Oh. (14:12)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          kinda can't pull it off

          and you were a bit late (14:12)

         

          **Delphine Cormier**

          :( (14:12)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          i still love you though (14:13)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          :)

          Je t'aime ma chérie <3 (14:13)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 (14:13)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          the fuck was that

          you just fall asleep on your phone or some shit (14:14)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          OH GOD SHE HASN'T DIED HAS SHE???????????? (14:14)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          christ alison calm down (14:14)       

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          COSIMA PLEASE REPLY IF YOU'RE NOT DEAD

          SHE'S NOT REPLYING I'M VERY WORRIED (14:14)

         

          **Sarah Manning**

          well you've hardly given her a second (14:15)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          I'M COMING TO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW (14:15)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Keeping up with you lot is harder than keeping up with the kardashians I swear to god (14:16)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          what the fuck fe (14:16)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          ? (14:16)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          how long have you been part of this whatsapp group then

          a week?

          two weeks?

          a year? (14:16)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Just a week Sarah I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear (14:17) 

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          well that's a week longer than me and i'm one of the bloody clones

          the whatsapp group is called CLONE CLUB

          not invite the whole world and their cats and dogs but not sarah manning

          WHO HAPPENS TO BE A CLONE (14:17)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Has she been in a foul mood all day or have I just stepped into the whatsapp version of Jeremy Kyle? (14:18)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          preeeetttyy bad, yeah. it started with talking to rachel tbh

          also i'm not dead and i've calmed alison down

          oh and that was binary code for 'i love you'

          hella rad am i right? (14:18)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Geeky but romantic

          I could see myself getting behind it after a few martini's (14:19)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          <3 (14:19)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          cos did you add felix to this group (14:19)

         

**Cosima Niehaus**

          yeah man

          why? (14:19)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          shit

          SHIT A BRICK

          the fuck was wrong with adding me to the group too??????

          add fe but not his sister what's wrong with you all?!?!? (14:20)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          whoooaaaaaaa i sense so much negativity right now (14:20)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          well obviously what did you expect i've been completely sidelined over here

          only got ass close to death a bunch of times for you weirdos

          didn't ask for a thank you

          didn't even ask for a cake though one MIGHT HAVE BEEN NICE ALISON

          but i sorta expected to be included in any whatsapp groups that popped up (14:21)

         

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Yes it must have been awful 4 u Sarah

          I half expected 2 c Beth Childs added 2 the group b4 u tbh (14:22)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY (14:22)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          oh shite

          when did they both get back on their mobiles (14:22)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Too soon

          Both in relation to them being on their phones and the proclone's comment (14:23)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          YOU ARE SHAMEFUL

          YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

          AND DISHONOURED

          DISHONOUR ON YOU

          ON YOUR FAMILY (14:23)

 

**Cosima Niehaus**

          ON YOUR COW (14:24)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          COSIMA???????? (14:24)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          mulan reference

          sorry probably not the best time (14:24)

 

**Alison Hendrix**

          BETH CHILDS WAS AN UPSTANDING

          OUTSTANDING

          INTELLIGENT

          NO NONSENSE CITIZEN

          SHE RESPECTED ME

          SHE RESPECTED MY CHILDREN

          SHE RESPECTED MY HOUSE

          SHE RESPECTED MY FURNITURE

          SHE NEVER MADE A MESS

          SHE NEVER MADE ME FEEL INFERIOR       

          WE WATCHED GREY'S ANATOMY TOGETHER

          SHE WAS KIND

          AND GENUINE

          AND SMELT LIKE PINE NEEDLES (14:25)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          alright ali we get it, you both digged each other (14:25)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          SHE BROUGHT ICE CREAM ONCE

          WHEN I WAS STILL TRYING TO COME TO TERMS WITH IT ALL

          AND I CRIED ALL OVER HER SPOON AS I ATE

          AND SHE LET ME KEEP THE SPOON

          WHICH I WILL NEVER FORGET BECAUSE IT WAS SO KIND

          AND WE WERE STILL STRANGERS

          SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW ME

          BUT SHE LET ME KEEP HER SPOON (14:26) 

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          she probably didn't want it back cos you blubbered all over it (14:26)

         

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          sarah! (14:27)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          well someone's gotta say it (14:27)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          NO YOU'RE WRONG

          IT WAS A KIND GESTURE

          FROM A GENEROUS, BEAUTIFUL AND COURAGEOUS SPIRIT (14:28)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          fucking hell (14:28)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          they were hella tight sarah

          like HELLA (14:29)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          yeah i kinda gathered from that outburst thanks cos (14:29)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          seriously though

          #hella (14:29)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          I stand by what I said.

          Also Helena is in the fridge & has been 4 some time. (14:30)

         

          **Siobhan Sadler**

She likes fridges, it's best to let her be (14:30)

**Sarah Manning**

 

          ARE YOU LITERALLY TAKING THE PISS (14:31)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Watch your tone young lady, I have every right to be in this group (14:31)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          YOU HAVE NO BLOODY RIGHT

          I STILL DON'T KNOW WHOSE SIDE YOU'RE ON (14;31)   

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Well by that logic Rachel shouldn't be in this group either

          And until she's removed, I'm staying (14:31)

 

**Rachel Duncan**

          Props 2 u. (14:32)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Thank you, Rachel (14:32)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          NO

          NO NO NO NO NO

          NO WAY

          MRS. S. HAS TO GO

          FE BACK ME UP (14:32)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Aw I've quite liked having Mrs. S. in the group (14:32)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          you're just saying that cos you're scared she'll rip the shit outta you next time she visits (14:33)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          A valid and admirable fear

          I regret nothing (14:33)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          oh go and paint another portrait of alison with a paintbrush between your asscheeks would you (14:34)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Excuse me???????????? (14:34)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          It was only once Alison I can assure you

          And I was very VERY high (14:34)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          I don't know how to react to this. (14:35)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Just accept it and move on

          I've managed to and I still find paint between my bumcheeks every now and then (14:35)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          I need a drink.

          This isn't good for my nerves. (14:36)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Helena is still in the fridge.

          CTA. (14:36)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          cta?????? (14:36)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Call to action. (14:36)

         

**Sarah Manning**

          christ it's like being in the military in this house (14:36)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Go and help your sister out, love (14:37)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          why me?!

          you're part of the group now apparently

          you come and do it (14:37)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          That's just impractical Sarah

          I'm in Mongolia (14:37)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MONGOLIA (14:38)

 

**Siobhan Sadler**

          You don't need to know (14:38)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          SEE THIS IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF SHADY SHIT I'M TALKING ABOUT

          and you all wonder why i have trust issues (14:38)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          I've always thought you're one of the most trusting of us. (14:39)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          hell no that award goes to cosima

          miss 'i know she's my monitor but YOLO' niehaus (14:30)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Leekie & I loled about it 4 weeks.

          #Winning. (14:30)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          i won't apologise for my heart, ok? (14:30)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          THAT'S NOT AN ACCEPTABLE EXCUSE COS (14:31)

 

          **Helena**

          help i am lost (14:31)

**Sarah Manning**

          oh for fucks sake

          just roll back out the fridge helena (14:31)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          She can't. The door shut on her. (14:32)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          And you just left her in there??!?!?!? (14:32)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          F2F contact was undesirable. (14:32)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          i know that feeling (14:32)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          SHE MIGHT BE FREEZING TO DEATH!!!!!

          AS WE SPEAK!!!!!! (14:32)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          actually she'd suffocate waaaayy before she died of hypothermia

          fridges aren't even that cold

          it's the small space filling up with carbon dioxide that you have to worry about

          sweet right???? (14:33)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          OH MARY MOTHER OF GOD

          ARE YOU TELLING ME SHE'S SUFFOCATED IN OUR FRIDGE?????!!???

          We'll have to clear everything out!!!!

          We won't be able to eat for days!!!!!!

          Where will we hide the body??????? (14:34)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          alison calm down she's not dead, alright?

          i'll go and check on her (14:34)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          You tell her not to go in there again!

          It's not safe and I've only just bought those mushrooms for my soup!

          I don't want to throw them away just because she spent too long sitting in the fridge and suffocated! (14:35)

 

           **Cosima Niehaus**

          you're having mushroom soup????? (14:35)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Yes, for dinner. (14:35)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          like

          hella mushrooms??? (14:35)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          What do you mean 'hella mushrooms'? (14:35)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          She wants to know if they're magic mushrooms Alison (14:36)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Oh.

          OH.

          No, certainly not!!!! (14:36)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          thought it sounded too good to be true :( (14:36)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          It was a bit of a long shot Cosima (14:36)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          a girl can dream (14:36)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          <3 (14:36)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          <3 (14:37)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          right i've dragged her out the shitting fridge

          she pulled half the fridge shelves down with her though

          there's mushrooms everywhere (14:38)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          MY MUSHROOMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (14:38)

         

          **Delphine Cormier**

          Mon dieu! (14:38)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          My dinner plans are ruined!!!!!! (14:39)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          The vials! Are the vials surviving?! (14:39)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          vials???

          what the hell were vials doing in the fridge??? (14:39)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          Nothing.

          Just petit vials.

          Absolutely legal vials. (14:39)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          puppy???????? (14:50)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          No concern for anyone, mon amour.

          Are they unharmed????? (14:50)

         

          **Sarah Manning**

          smashed to pieces mate (14:50)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          Merde! (14:50)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Did some1 say breaking vials? (14:50)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          Non! (14:50)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          there's glass everywhere delphine you can hardly deny it

          rachel's sat at the kitchen table she can see it all (14:51)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Dr. Cormier I require ur presence.

          ASAP. (14:51)

 

          **Delphine Cormier**

          Zut alors. (14:51)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Why do I get a feeling of impending doom? (14:52)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          i can't believe this

          delphine we need to talk (14:52)

**Sarah Manning**

          puppy's in the shitter now ain't she

          did try and warn you cos

          she's as shady as mrs. s. (14:53)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          shut up sarah you're not exactly squeaky clean yourself (14:53)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Ooooooooooooooh!

          Claws are coming out now aren't they! (14:53)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          what've i done wrong?! (14:53)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          i heard about your kiss with delphine (14:54)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          WHAT

          OH MY GOD

          Sarah you dark horse! (14:54)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          i was pretending to be you!

          she thought i was you!!!! (14:54)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          didn't exactly try and stop it though did you (14:55)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          i didn't want to blow my cover!

          she figured it out in like five seconds anyway

          seemed a bit off with me truth be told

          didn't get the friendliest of vibes (14:56)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          yeah

          well i've got my eye on you (14:56)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          all four of them yeah? (14:56)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          MeeeeOOWWW (14:56)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Sarah that was completely uncalled for.

          Cosima can't help being practically blind. (14:57)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          hey! (14:57)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Apologise immediately. (14:57)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          ...yeah alright

          sorry cos

          that was a bit of a low blow (14:58)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          apology accepted

          as long as you eavesdrop on rachel and delphine's conversation (14:58)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          uggGH

          fine

          gimme a sec they're by one of the windows

          speaking in HUSHED TONES (14:58) 

         

          **Alison Hendrix**

          I'm sure it's nothing suspicious, Cosima.

          Maybe they're admiring the weather? (14:59)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Yeah cos hushed tones really indicate to a leisurely conversation about the weather don't they? (14:59)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Enough of your lip, Felix.

          I'm still grieving for my mushrooms, I don't need your cheek as well. (14:59)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          #buuuurrnn (15:00)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          i can't really make it out while i'm trying to keep helena out the fridge

          something to do with cosmetic

          no wait

          gemetic???

          make that GENETIC

          genetic

          submarine???? (15:02)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          sarah you're totally not as good at this as i thought you would be (15:02)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          sub???

          scene???

          SCREEN

          GENETIC SCREENING (15:03)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Oh my. (15:03)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          blood samples???? or something?????

          i mean it's just

          science science science neolution science dna

          rachel's thrown some titbit in about a salad she had for lunch

          dressed herring apparently

          christ

          even her salads are pretentious (15:04)

 

          **Alison Hendrix**

          Were they keeping blood samples in the fridge?????

          In the COMMUNAL FRIDGE??????!?!??? (15:04)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          shite rachel's looking at her phone (15:05)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          #busted (15:05)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          she's not happy

          they've stopped the conversation

          delphine's coming to find you cos

          tail between her legs and all that puppy stuff (15:06)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          can't believe she didn't tell me about this

          what if those were our blood samples?????? (15:06)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          keep us updated yeah? (15:06)

 

          **Cosima Niehaus**

          will do

          if you hear yelling it's just signs of a TOTALLY HEALTHY AND FUNCTIONING relationship ok?

          no judging (15:07)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          wouldn't dream of it (15:07)

 

           **Rachel Duncan**

          I think u will find the blood samples have nothing 2 do with any of u.

          They're 4 something else entirely. (15:08)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          yeah forgive me for not trusting a word you say eh ray ray? (15:08)

         

          **Alison Hendrix**

          I cannot BELIEVE you kept blood in the FRIDGE!

          It's so unhygienic!!!

          And anti-social!!!!! (15:10)

 

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Not to mention creepy (15:10)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          P2C2E.

          It was necessary.

          That is all. (15:13)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          p2c2e???? anyone????? (15:14)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Process too complicated to explain, love (15:15)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          why does it not surprise me you know all this weird text speak lingo? (15:16)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          I lived through some radical times, Sarah

          Many things happened in Ireland

          And in London (15:18)

         

          **Felix Dawkins**

          Didn't exactly answer the question there Mrs. S. (15:18)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          yeah

          getting real tired of your vague references to some shady past mrs. s.

          reeeaaaall tired (15:19)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          It's come to my attention that I have no food left unscathed after Helena's follies in the fridge.

          Sarah? (15:20)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          what do you mean 'sarah'? (15:20)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Thoughts. (15:20)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          if you're angling to share some of my food the answer's no

          i only have one ready meal (15:20)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          Invitation accepted. (15:21)

**Sarah Manning**

          what????

          no

          we're not sharing it duncan (15:21)

**Rachel Duncan**

          ETA 1900hrs. (15:21)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          i said no you big dork (15:21)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          DNBL8. (15:21)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          i don't

          what the bloody hell does that mean (15:22)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Do not be late (15:22)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          great (15:22)

 

          **Rachel Duncan**

          DFU. (15:23)

 

          **Siobhan Sadler**

          Don't fuck up (15:23)

 

          **Sarah Manning**

          YEAH ALRIGHT MRS. S. YOU CAN LEAVE THE GROUP NOW (15:23)

 

* * *

 

          To say that Sarah and Rachel were enjoying a meal together would have been a lie. They were sharing a meal, it was true, but only in a begrudging and vaguely hateful sort of way where they refused to talk to each other.

 

          Rachel didn't want to open conversation because the only person to talk to was Sarah and Sarah was a stupid idiot punk who wasn't worth her time. Conversely, Sarah didn't want to open conversation with Rachel because Rachel was a big proclone nerd with a dorky proclone haircut to match.

 

          Inconveniently, however, Sarah was eating more than her fair share of the lasagne ready meal and Rachel had never been one to let others have even the slightest of victories over her.

 

          "It would seem your stomach is just as big as your mouth, Sarah," The blonde remarked, taking a delicate sip of water from her glass.

 

          "Shove it, Duncan. I paid for it, I'm eatin' as much as I can," Sarah retorted in between mouthfuls, "not my fault you chew as slow as you talk."

 

           "I don't talk slowly, I talk deliberately and with precision," Rachel said haughtily, watching Sarah eat as if it were the most disgusting display she'd seen in her life.

 

          "Whatever," was the only reply Sarah offered, her focus lying more in trying to shovel as much food into her mouth as was humanly possible (which rather made her look the spitting image of Helena for a few seconds).

 

          Rachel decided that fighting over the food simply wasn't worth the indignity of stooping to Sarah's ungraceful level and hurling lasagne into her mouth at full throttle, so she leant back in her chair and continued to watch her clone closely instead.

 

          _Munch, munch, munch, munch._

 

          "Animals in zoos eat with more etiquette."

 

          "Bite me."

 

          A slightly wrinkled nose in disgust at the thought.

_Munch, munch, munch, munch._

 

          "I updated your files today and flagged you as ready to be considered for termination."

 

          "Yeah, kill off the fertile one. Bet that'll happen."

 

          _Munch, munch, munch, munch._

 

          All familiar conversational paths depleted, Rachel took a moment to try and think of something that would surely spark discussion. Simply sitting and watching Sarah eat was rather dull.

 

          _What to say? What to say?_

 

          _Munch, munch, munch, munch._

 

          "So," Rachel began slowly, drawling the word out dramatically as if she were about to drop a bombshell of news, "Cosima's gay."

 

          Sarah paused mid-chew. Met the proclone's gaze. Stared in disbelief for a moment or two before saying with complete sincerity, "Rach, we've _'gotta_ work on your conversational skills."

 

* * *

 

          **PunkRockHo//22:17PM**

          oi duncan

 

          **PunkRockHo//22:17PM**

          DUNCAN

 

          **SlamDuncan//22:18PM**

          Manning.

 

          **PunkRockHo//22:18PM**

          guess what

 

          **SlamDuncan//22:18PM**

          I'm not going 2 play games with u Sarah.

         

          **PunkRockHo//22:18PM**

          DSTR8 you're not

 

          **PunkRockHo//22:18PM**

cos i'm not gonna give you a chance

 

          **PunkRockHo//22:18PM**

          enjoy your organised messages while you can

 

          **SlamDuncan//22:19PM**

Don't u dare.

 

**PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

          **PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:19PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

          **SlamDuncan//22:20PM**

          We're going 2 come 2 terms about this 1 day.

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

**SlamDuncan//22:20PM**

          Mark my words.

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**PunkRockHo//22:20PM**

          ^URS PROCLONE

 

**SlamDuncan//22:20PM**

          We r going 2 come 2 terms.

* * *

 


	7. Back to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Leekie almost come to blows over Rachel's insistence on having her manicure appointment take place in Leekie's office, Delphine struggles to offer any decent ideas during a brainstorming session, Marion Bowles excels herself by speaking almost exclusively in corporate and scientific jargon and Cosima accidentally sets off the smoke alarm in her lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author has decided to make a tetralogy consisting of:
> 
> Emails of a Proclone, TXTS OF A PR0CLON3, Back to Business and another chapter which HAS YET TO BE REVEALED. 
> 
> [OMINOUS AND MYSTERIOUS MUSIC PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND]
> 
> The author has also included skateboarding!cosima, which is credited completely to valentinemichaelsmith's wondrous tumblr.
> 
> The author also realises that an entire board room discussing the clones is probably not the most canonical of happenings, considering how hush hush wink wink Project LEDA is, but then she figured this entire fic has thrown a middle finger up at the canon so she just went for it in the name of silliness and humour.

** ROAD TO A HAPPY CLONE CLUB: UNDER CONSTRUCTION **

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

** BACK TO BUSINESS **

 

          Working alongside Rachel Duncan was difficult. It was difficult for many reasons including the fact she couldn't pass a window by without having a solid stare out of it. She also refused to apologise for anything ever, looked at everyone as if she were permanently unimpressed with their endeavours and demanded more coffees than she could ever possibly hope to drink in one day.

 

          The proclone was also decidedly tricky to deal with because she was physically incapable of acknowledging anybody as her equal, let alone her superior.

 

          This meant that Rachel Duncan generally did what she wanted, where she wanted and when she wanted at the DYAD institute. She'd begrudgingly attend a few meetings and the odd video conference with Marion Bowles when Dr. Leekie insisted on it, but most days passed with her treating the institute rather more like a hotel than a place of work.

 

          However even Aldous Leekie, who usually let bygones be bygones when it came to Rachel's behaviour, had to admit things were getting a little out of control when she arranged to have a manicure appointment in his office.

 

          She'd breezed through the door at precisely 1:45pm, completely unannounced, and stood before his desk with a folder in her hands, looking down at him with her cold, dark shark eyes.

 

          "Aldous, you're going to have to move," were her first words, hollow and empty like her expression (and quite possibly her heart).

 

          He'd stared back up at her, confused and a little bit afraid. There was always the faint worry in the back of his mind that Rachel might end up snapping one day and decide to tear DYAD apart from the inside out - starting with him.

 

          "I'm busy at the moment, Rachel. Can this wait until later?" he'd asked, fingers hovering over his laptop as he spoke.

 

          "No," was the reply, firm and conclusive, "my manicure appointment is in fifteen minutes and we'll have need of your desk."

 

          A long pause as Leekie struggled to process what had just been said. Rachel continued to stare down at him unblinkingly. Her body language was so controlled, in fact, that she barely looked as if she was breathing at all.

 

          "I don't....well, I don't..." Leekie began in a rather baffled manner, "I don't see how that involves me or my desk, Rachel."

 

          "The manicure will be taking place across your desk," Rachel clarified. She still hadn't blinked.

 

          The two eyed each other for a moment.

 

          "...No it won't," Aldous responded, hoping the message would sink in without Rachel causing a fuss. This was a very optimistic hope - some might even say impossible - but then everybody had laughed in his face when he'd talked about cloning in his younger days and here was one standing right in front of him.

 

          Informing him that she was using his office for a manicure appointment.

 

          "Yes, it will," Rachel replied gracefully, opening up the folder in her hands and handing Leekie a sheet of paper, "it's on the schedule."

 

          Aldous glanced down at the sheet. Saw an 'X' crossed through his '2pm - 3pm: Updating Research Notes' in red pen. Rachel's neat handwriting beside it: '2pm - 3pm: Rachel Duncan's Manicure Appointment'.

 

          A slight pause. A difficult decision on how best to go about informing Rachel that this wasn't acceptable.

 

          Aldous offered the paper back to the proclone. "This isn't correct"

 

          "Yes, I realised that and amended it as you can see," Rachel replied, not taking the paper.

 

          "That's not really how it works though, is it Rachel?"

 

          "Must I remind you that I technically outrank you in this company Aldous," Rachel said, eyes narrowing just enough to suggest a healthy dose of hostility, "if a manicure appointment is scheduled to happen in your office then that's where it will happen."

 

          It was at this deadlock in the conversation that Leekie's eyes began to wander past Rachel and towards the glass panels that made up half the walls of his office. This was because a woman who looked exactly like Rachel but with glasses and dreadlocks was leisurely skateboarding down the corridor.

 

          "Am I boring you, Aldous?" Rachel asked sharply, unaware that her clone was attempting to do a kickflip over a small decorative plant.

 

          "No, not at all, it's just that-"

 

          "If you don't move, I'll have to call security."

 

          "But this is - you can't - this is _my_ office!"

 

          "Well, maybe I'll have to contact Marion Bowles about relocating-"

 

          _"Yo, yo, yo,"_ a voice suddenly chipped in, "is this a good time?"

 

          Leekie let out a long, weary sigh and Rachel turned slowly on her heel to find her mirror image staring straight back at her, a foot resting casually on a battered looking skateboard.

 

          "I was just wondering if we could discuss my life-threatening illness sorta soonish?" Cosima Niehaus continued, gesturing madly in the air, "like I'm kind of always coughing up blood so kind of always worried-"

 

          "No." Dr. Leekie and Rachel answered in unison. Aldous sounded rather tired, all things considered, whereas Rachel's tone had a vaguely vicious edge to it.

 

          It didn't take a genius to pick up on the negative vibes and Cosima, whose brain power far exceeded all human capabilities at times, sensed it immediately. She raised both hands as if in surrender and then hopped back onto her skateboard. Pushed backwards and began rolling out of the office, eyes still focused on Leekie and Rachel.

 

          "Ok, rad. I'm feeling some tension so I'll leave you two to, like, sort it out."

 

          "Skateboarding isn't allowed on the premises, Cosima," Aldous stated, half defeatedly already.

 

          "Dude, technically neither's cloning," was Cosima's reply, eye contact unbroken as she rolled out the door.

 

          A small pause as she slowly made her way back down the corridor. She was still gazing at the two of them as she passed the glass walls by. Just before she was out of sight she offered a solid "Increase the peace, people," and then she was gone.

 

          Rachel was immediately back on the attack. This didn't involve talking, however, and instead relied rather heavily on staring at Aldous with such intensity that he began to sweat.

 

          "Rachel, I'm in the middle of _working-"_ he began helplessly.

 

          "And I've been in the middle of a manicure since two minutes ago yet you don't seem to have moved," the proclone responded without having looked at a watch or clock.

 

          Aldous glanced at the time on his laptop. 2:02pm exactly. Rachel's ability to know what time it was with no aid was rocketing past uncanny levels and nearing slightly creepy ones instead.

 

          "This is my office and I'm working. I'm afraid I really can't negotiate on the matter," Dr. Leekie said finally, trying to ignore the fact that Delphine had just entered the room carrying a large case.

 

          "I'm sorry I'm late," Delphine announced, looking a little sheepish, "Cosima almost ran me down in the corridor."

 

          Rachel hadn't even turned to look at her.

 

          A long pause.

 

          "Delphine," Aldous began, fearing he already knew the answer to his question, "what's in the case?"

 

          "Oh, this?" Delphine looked down at it and then glanced uneasily to Rachel, "I, uh, was told this was where the manicure was taking place."

 

          _"You're_ giving Rachel a manicure?"

 

          "Oui."

 

          "A _french_ manicure," Rachel clarified, taking a step forward and closing Leekie's laptop screen decisively, "and unless you were hoping for one too, I suggest you take your work elsewhere."

 

          Thus, dejectedly accepting his fate, that was how Dr. Leekie ended up sitting in a cramped corner of the DYAD cafeteria, bitterly updating his notes on Rachel with words like 'stubborn', 'power-hungry' and 'anti-social' while he chomped resentfully on a bagel.

 

* * *

 

          It was a half hour after her manicure and Rachel Duncan hadn't spoken for the past twenty minutes. She hadn't moved either, except for the occasional slow blink. She was sat at the head of the glass table, in the stereotypical position of authority, but she might as well have been in a completely different building for all the input she was offering to the group assembled before her.

 

          "...if we could just uniquely utilize the hundreds of diverse interfaces we have here at the DYAD Institute then we could objectively empower our genetically driven laboratory workforce," a voice floated by. It belonged to a young man in a grey suit, seated half way down the table, who was still trying to make an impact in these meetings in the vain hope he'd be propelled up the DYAD career ladder as fast as the infamous Paul Dierden.

 

          A middle aged woman sat opposite him, however, was always keen and ready to shut him down whenever he spoke. "That's a complete waste of funds," she retorted briskly, "the laboratory department are already entirely efficient. We should be looking to embrace and promote the dynamically changing next-generation innovations that they produce."

 

          "The clones!" Dr. Leekie suggested, as he always did at even the vaguest amount of prompting. He was entirely invested in them - they were his pride and joy (despite the fact one had just forced him to spend an hour or so wedged in the overcrowded cafeteria) - and he took any lull in discussion as an opportunity to steer conversation back to Project LEDA.

 

          All eyes awkwardly and momentarily shifted onto Rachel. She didn't look like she was paying attention. Her head was turned towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, which she was gazing out of fondly.

 

          "I'm not sure that _quite_ relates to what we were discussing-" The middle aged woman said, only to have Dr. Leekie enthusiastically and entirely unsympathetically speak over her.

 

          "They've been doing really remarkably well. The house share is going brilliantly, isn't it Rachel?"

 

          A languid blink from Rachel. An empty, monotone reply devoid of any feeling whatsoever, "Helena almost shot Alison in the face yesterday."

 

          An uncomfortable pause. A few people shifted awkwardly in their seats.

 

          "Yes, well," Aldous said, sounding rather less enthusiastic about his beloved clones, "there's always a period of...adjustment, isn't there?"

 

          "They've been living together for over two _months_ now, Dr. Leekie-" another corporate grey suit began.

 

          "Exactly, _not very long at all,"_ Aldous emphasized firmly, drowning out any further complaints that attempted to spring up, "Helena's improving leaps and bounds considering her background. I'm sure Rachel will be happy to elaborate."

 

          All eyes turned to Rachel again. The proclone was in no hurry to satisfy their curiosity on the matter, however, and it seemed to take a great amount of willpower and inner strength on her part to tear her gaze away from the windows. She eventually focused her attention on the folders neatly arranged in front of her, but only after dedicating a few moments to staring each person directly in the eyes in a manner that highlighted just how unimpressed with them all she was. A further second or two to check that the pen on the table was set straight rather than askew. A careful and lengthy process to open one of the folders to the correct page.

 

          The first page was turned, the second page was turned, the third page was turned - a pause, Rachel raised her head to give everybody a once over again, an expression of vague disdain on her immaculately powdered face - the fourth page was turned, the fifth page was turned - another pause, Rachel skimmed over a paragraph, glanced up at Aldous, gave a shake of the head so slight it was barely noticeable - the sixth page was turned, the seventh page was turned, the eighth and ninth...

 

          Rachel finally arrived at the tenth page. Took a moment to stare in distaste at the printed photo of Helena at the top right corner. Raised her head to address the meeting in her cold, emotionless voice.

 

          "There have been no improvements."

 

          Silence.

 

          Rachel stared Aldous hard in the eyes.

 

          Aldous stared Rachel hard in the eyes.

 

          "I'm sure there's room for a little more explanation," Dr. Leekie managed through grit teeth. Rachel was being exceptionally difficult today.

 

          "No, I don't think so," the proclone replied.

 

          "Perhaps you could read out the latest notes you uploaded?"

 

          More staring. More power quietly being struggled over.

 

          Rachel narrowed her eyes slightly, giving Aldous an icy look that wouldn't have been out of place had he just announced his plans to authorise her termination. She flipped through four more pages in a rather passive-aggressive manner without breaking eye contact. Didn't even look down at the page she arrived on.

 

          "Monday, noon. Helena still asleep in bed, clutching one of Sarah's shoes. Sarah wore it only yesterday and returned saying she had potentially trodden in dog faeces but Helena does not seem to care," another page flip, "Monday, half one. Helena has awoken and moved directly to the fish tank in the hall. Her face is pressed up against the glass so hard it must be causing her at least some amount of physical pain. The fish appear rather distressed-"

 

          "Yes, well-"

 

          "Monday, quarter past two. Helena found a handgun in Sarah's room and brought it into the living area, where she sat down on a sofa and began admiring it. Alison was sat beside her and made it quite clear that the living area was no place for a gun-"

 

          "Thank you Rachel-"

 

          "Alison attempted to take the gun from Helena, only for Helena to pull the trigger in the struggle and send a bullet into the wall opposite. The barrel of the gun was mere inches from Alison's face and she quickly descended into hysterics. She referenced Elizabeth Childs at least five times in her angry tirade and also, inexplicably, the Cats musical and Hairspray-"

 

          _"Thank you Rachel,"_ Aldous repeated, loud enough this time to stop the proclone in her tracks, "those are some very astute and...positive observations."

 

          Quiet murmurings of discontent all round. Corporate grey suits silently wondering, in complete disbelief, how the culmination of the groundbreaking Project LEDA had reached this point.

 

          Dr. Leekie shifted uneasily in his seat. Cleared his throat. "I think we can all agree that Project LEDA has some very unique points to offer to the nature nurture debate."

 

          Images of Sarah Manning infiltrating the DYAD Institute and causing an absolute shitstorm. Helena attempting to both murder everyone and eat as much food as physically possible. Alison Hendrix drunkenly falling off stage during a musical. Cosima discreetly trying to roll joints in her lab while researching her own genetics.

 

          Rachel Duncan sat at the head of the table with her manicured nails, presiding over everything like the Queen gazing out over the board during a game of chess.

 

          Aldous met her gaze for a moment. Couldn't shake the feeling at the very back of his mind that she spent most of her time during these meetings planning ways in which to bring the whole of DYAD down.

         

          "Well, shall we leave it here then, ladies and gentlemen?" He said, closing his folders and rising to his feet.

 

          "Are you sure? I hadn't reached the part about Sarah trying to flick an elastic band at me only for it to snap back into her own face," Rachel stated good naturedly.

 

          Aldous took a breath. It was the deep breath of a man who had become involved in a project surrounding clones which, despite his best efforts, hadn't produced results nearly as impressive or enticing as everyone had wished.

 

          "No," Dr. Leekie said, under great strain, "thank you Rachel, that's quite enough on the house share for today."

 

          "In that case," Rachel continued brazenly, "might we discuss getting my patent removed?"

 

          Aldous Leekie, clutching his folders tightly to his chest and already hurrying out of the meeting room, pretended not to hear.

 

* * *

 

          Delphine Cormier was having a tough day.

 

          Firstly she'd been forced to give Rachel Duncan a french manicure which was both humiliating and a complete waste of time. Secondly she'd returned to Cosima's lab and found half the equipment broken and a skateboard lodged firmly through a computer screen because Cosima had attempted to 'grind across a desk but it went like hella wrong'.

 

           The two had then had a slight argument that descended into her and Cosima attempting to have a quick fumble on a desk, only for Cosima to sit on a pen and have it go half up somewhere she really hadn't wanted it to go and for Delphine to lean a bit too heavily on a staple gun and accidentally staple her lab coat to the desk. The moment had further been ruined by Rachel's undeclared appearance, wherein she swept over to the desk, gracefully deposited a stack of papers and then swept back out, having honoured neither of them with so much as a glance or a nod. She certainly hadn't addressed the issue that the lab looked like a bombsite and Cosima was sat half naked on a desk rubbing her backside painfully with Delphine standing over her, struggling to wrench her lab coat free from its stapled position.

 

          However, the origins of the tough day could also have had something to do with the fact that Delphine had accidentally ended up leading a brainstorming session in Meeting Room 006.

 

          It hadn't been part of her plan for the day, as she was actually meant to be collecting results from one of the genetics labs further down the corridor, down two flights of stairs, across a hallway, up a lift and down three more ominously lit corridors. Unfortunately for Delphine, however, during her journey she'd been assailed by a young woman who'd flung open the door of Meeting Room 006 and grabbed a tight hold of her arm.

 

          "Dr. Cormier, here you are! We've been waiting."

 

          "Oh! I.....I do not think you have the right-"

 

          But the woman hadn't waited and, with a positively beaming face, she'd dragged Delphine into the room and given her an introduction.

 

          "Everyone, this is Dr. Cormier. She'll be leading the discussions today. I've heard very good things about her. _Very_ creative," and with that said, she'd taken a seat and Delphine had a whole meeting room staring up at her expectantly.

 

          A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind. Perhaps the woman had the wrong person - no, she _must_ have the wrong person. But she'd called her 'Dr. Cormier', which was definitely her name. Was it her name? No, yes, it was. Was it? Delphine suddenly wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe she'd signed up for this? Had she decided to lead a brainstorming session at any point recently? Did Cosima sign her up for it? Was it rota based? Maybe everybody led brainstorming sessions?

 

          "Whenever you're ready, Dr. Cormier," the woman prompted eagerly.

 

          Suddenly it seemed like Delphine didn't have a choice in the matter. She glanced behind her at the white board, which had 'ETHICS CAMPAIGN' written in red, capital letters. She looked back at the group sat before her.

 

          "I...we...back in France we would call it éthique...." she trailed off, trying to gauge the faces staring up at her, "...perhaps the...problème d'éthique médicale-" three faces lit up instantly, nodding enthusiastically, "ah! Medical ethics! Oui, I see, yes," she smiled, giving herself a small victory fist pump which raised a few brows, "medical ethics, a very grey area certainly."

         

          "We were thinking of an advertising overhaul," one man said keenly, "to ease the public's concerns over the institute's methods."

 

          "Oh - DYAD's ethics! A campaign to counter the negative image," Delphine felt as though she'd solved the Da Vinci code. This would be fine, she could muster up a few ideas. How hard could it be?

 

          "An advertising overhaul, you say? How about...a television advert?"

 

          Nodding heads all round. She was doing brilliantly.

 

          "We could...it would be...perhaps just a short advert...with a...uh...excuse me, with a..." Delphine's mind was blank. It was the blankest it had ever been in her life, including the time she'd incorrectly used the word 'moot' and had Cosima make fun of her for the rest of the day. What would send a positive image? What did most people like? What did _everybody_ like? "We could...uh...use the....if we just perhaps borrowed some puppies and...just let them..."

 

          Delphine picked up the red board pen and began drawing a puppy beside the word 'ETHICS' out of sheer desperation. Delphine was a scientist, not an artist, and frankly it didn't look good.

 

          "If we maybe....let them loose...just free them...in a....in one of the labs? We can show how much fun we have here at DYAD with...with the puppies." Her suggestion couldn't have ended soon enough. She put down the pen delicately and turned to face the room with her hands clasped tightly together.

 

          Silence.

 

          She forced a smile. "Does anybody have any...thoughts?"

 

          "Yes," came a velvety voice which sent a sudden jolt of alarm down Delphine's spine, "that idea is unacceptable and my decision is non-negotiable."

 

          All eyes turned to the door. A high-heeled figure with red lipstick and a very aggressive haircut.

 

          "Hello. Rachel Duncan," was the introduction as she started towards a seat, "I've been assigned to oversee this meeting and make sure no...mistakes are made," here she stared pointedly at Delphine, who looked as though her world had come crashing down around her, "Dr. Cormier, why are you here?"

 

          "I...uh...well, you see I-"

 

          "She's taking over from Aisha today," the young woman interrupted helpfully, "her name was on the schedule, I double checked."

 

          "I see," Rachel replied, descending elegantly into a chair and placing her folders carefully onto the table, "continue."

 

          The clock in the room suddenly seemed to be ticking very loudly as the two locked eyes. Delphine thought she must be seeing things at first but...as she continued to stare...was that...was that a vague expression of triumph and amusement on Rachel's face?! A thousand possibilities whirled round Delphine's mind. Did Rachel swap her name for this 'Aisha's'? But why? What could Delphine have possibly-

 

          The vials. The blood samples in the fridge that had met a premature fate at the hands of Helena and Sarah. Delphine shouldn't have even been keeping them in the fridge, strictly speaking, but she hadn't been going into the lab that day and she'd planned on taking them the next day instead. She hadn't really accounted for the fact that one of her girlfriend's clones might take it upon themselves to climb into the fridge and physically fight anyone who tried to remove them.

 

          _Oh merde,_ and the wrecked lab - and the desk! The potential desk sex with Cosima that, for a brilliant moment, looked like it might happen before disaster had struck. Repeatedly. Rachel had caught them and acted like they were so far beneath her she didn't even care to notice, so Delphine had assumed any trouble had been averted. But here Rachel was, sat in a low-level meeting about some ethical campaign which Delphine had somehow been scheduled to lead, watching her clone's girlfriend like a shark.

         

          This was definitely payback for her and Cosima's misdemeanours, there was no doubt. Not only was it humiliating but it was a warning. Rachel could switch things around in the DYAD Institute at her every whim and fancy. If she wanted Delphine to spearhead a brainstorming session about marketing campaigns, which she was absolutely not qualified to do, she could make it happen within an hour. What was next? Making her work in a different lab from Cosima? Sending her off to some far flung land like Frankfurt?

 

          "Do you have any other ideas?" the young woman asked politely.

 

          "Yes," Delphine replied defiantly, still staring Rachel hard in the eyes, "I have a few more up my sleeve."

 

          Unfortunately for Delphine, however, her dramatic moment was firstly ruined by the fact she was wearing a top without any sleeves and secondly by the door swinging open once more as a familiar figure popped his head into the room.

 

          "Hello! Dr. Leekie. I thought I'd just poke my head in and let you know that we've had another fire in sector B, so that might want to be addressed in the...campaign..." he paused, eyes focusing confusedly on Rachel at the back of the room, "Rachel?"

 

          "Aldous."

 

          "Dr. Leekie?" Delphine said, sounding thoroughly distressed at the emergence of another superior.

 

          Aldous turned his head to the front of the room, brows furrowed. "Delphine?"

         

          "Rachel," Delphine said, a little lost in all the confusion.

         

          "Delphine," Rachel responded.

 

          "Dr. Leekie," Delphine blurted out, well and truly flustered.

 

          "Delphine?" Dr. Leekie replied.

 

          "Rachel Duncan," Rachel concluded in a husky voice, sounding as though she gained all the pleasure in the world from saying her own name.

 

          "What are you both doing here?" Dr. Leekie asked. He'd left Rachel in an exceptionally important video conference with Marion Bowles just moments before.

 

          "I was simply performing a brief check on the standards of our meetings," Rachel replied breezily, as if she'd meant to be there all along and hadn't just left her boss on Skype to an empty room, "I fear there's room for improvement-"

 

          "Dr. Leekie, I'm not even supposed to be here," Delphine said hurriedly, seeing her chance for escape and hoping to take it with both hands, "my name is on the schedule but I was never notified-"

 

          "If your name was on the schedule then this is where you should be," Rachel's voice cut in icily. She had no tolerance for her authority being undermined.

 

           "Yes, well, you should be in a video conference right now, Rachel," Aldous pointed out, tapping impatiently on the side of the door, "Marion _won't_ be pleased."

 

          "Dr. Leekie, do you have any ideas regarding the campaign?" a voice piped up near the front before Rachel could respond, "we've been...struggling somewhat."

 

          Always happy to make time for his brilliance when it was called upon, Aldous sidled into the room a little further. "Well, we were discussing it in a meeting earlier today, actually. We were thinking posters...with something reassuring on it."

 

          "Yes, we could have picture of a big lab fire with my mother being swallowed in flames in the background," came Rachel's expressionless voice from the other end of the table.

 

          A vast, hanging silence.

 

          "...Uh, well, maybe...maybe not," Dr. Leekie began awkwardly, "I can absolutely see where you're coming from...you know...you've put your...your uh...real life experiences into that brainstorm, that was lovely, thank you Rachel. Anyone else?"

 

          Much to everyone's dismay, Delphine looked like she was ready to enter the fray again. If Rachel was going to offer an idea, no matter how sarcastically, then so was Delphine. This was _war_ now and she couldn't show weakness.

 

          "What about a, uh...a..." Delphine fumbled over her words, her brain working overtime as the pressure mounted to produce an idea - _any idea at all_ , "...what about a picture of a....a sort of...a lovely croissant? Just...a nice...with a nice...golden crisp to it-"

 

          "What about a picture of Paul?" Aldous thankfully bulldozed over the top of her trailing voice, "in a lab coat, holding some vials and smiling at the camera?" 

 

          "Yes, everyone likes Paul. He's got a lovely face," a brunette by the side of the room enthused.

 

          "What sort of slogan could be matched with that?" Aldous asked.

 

          "When one woman isn't enough, try cloning her with DYAD Institute today," Rachel suggested scathingly.

 

          Another pause.

 

          Aldous began moving back out the door again. "...Yes, well....I mean he's engaged in undercover work at the moment anyway. Probably best for him to keep a low profile," he motioned to Rachel, "Marion won't like to be kept waiting."

 

          If Rachel had been the petulant sort she might have let out a sulky huff at Dr. Leekie's prompting. Since she arguably had more in common with robots than humans, however, she ended up imparting a long stare in Leekie's direction - a stare that threatened cold, calculated murder.

 

          He shuffled uncomfortably.

 

          Rachel elegantly got to her feet. Scanned the room. Gave the impression that every single person in the meeting was insignificant and expendable, including Delphine whom she generously turned her nose up at as she made her way out the room.

 

          As the door slowly closed on them, Delphine's voice could be heard once more: "Shall I expand on the petit chiot plan or shall we all agree it is...uh... _moot?"_

 

* * *

 

          "Things are moving quickly in Topside."

 

          "Understood."

 

          "We expect progress and commitment."

 

          "Yes."

 

          "Topside believes the time has come to reenergise our relative matrix approaches."

 

          "Absolutely," Dr. Leekie agreed, head nodding obediently at the screen from which Marion Bowles' face gazed down upon them all condescendingly.

 

          Rachel was far less impressed. She'd refused to sit down for the conference, even after five prompts from Marion to do so, and was instead attempting to remain as level as possible with her superior despite the latter's position overseeing herself and Leekie from a screen on the wall. The height difference was disagreeable and Rachel was already rather short (something she valiantly tried to battle against with increasingly high heels) so she'd been left with no choice but to channel all her inner hatred and disdain for DYAD - and really the world at large - into her small body in the hopes Marion would pick up on it and feel at least a little intimidated.

 

          Marion Bowles, unfortunately, was not one to feel fear.

 

          "Input, Rachel?" she asked, gazing down on the clone.

 

          "You did not clarify which matrix approaches this is in regards to," Rachel replied, feeling as though she'd just gained a small victory.

 

          Marion, in contrast, looked as though she was coming very close to rolling her eyes. "There's growing correlation in the dependent basal transcriptional change," she stated, as if it were perfectly obvious and she had higher expectations of Rachel's understanding, "Topside would prefer it if these matters were kept confidential, of course."

 

          A growing, seething feeling of loathing. Rachel didn't like it when she didn't understand things. She always understood everything. These video conferences, consisting solely of Marion Bowles speaking in what Rachel could only assume was tongues, were unbearable.

 

          "What exactly is the point of this urgent video conference?" Rachel asked, jaw clenched.

 

          "Topside would like to know what happened to the epigenetic operational blood samples that Dr. Cormier had in her possession."

         

          _Memories of Helena clambering into the fridge. Sarah dragging her out as she kicked and cursed in Ukrainian. A fight. Fridge shelves crashing down and vials smashing. Delphine's sheepish face._

 

          A slight twitch momentarily developed in Rachel's left eye before she managed to regain control.

 

          "They...deteriorated somewhat," she managed, making a mental note to seek revenge on both Helena and Sarah when the next opportunity arose.

 

          "Define 'deteriorated'."

 

          "They are no longer usable."

 

          Marion was not pleased.

 

          Rachel was not pleased.

 

          The two exchanged heated glares.

 

          "Dr. Cormier is working on it, I'm sure," Dr. Leekie interrupted hastily, fearing for Rachel's safety. Or Marion's. Perhaps both.

 

          "Good," Marion replied, still indulging in a hearty scowl, "here at Topside we're insistent that the interdependent paradigms are kept as under wraps as possible. Oh, and Dr. Leekie, I'd prefer it if you could _competently_ leverage the synergistic channels."

 

          Aldous, having not a single wavering clue what had just been said, nodded his affirmation. "Consider it done."

 

          Marion's face turned to Rachel, who was still a small, glowering bundle of hatred beneath the screen. "Rachel? Anything to add? Something about Sarah Manning perhaps?"

 

          "No."

 

          "Well, _that_ makes a pleasant change," Marion replied, in a rather derisive and cynical manner. She paused. A hand came into view, ready to switch off the webcam. "Also I've received your twentieth complaint regarding your patent," she stated, "and I can assure you it's being processed as I speak."

 

          Just before the screen went blank, there was the faint sound of a paper shredder whirring into life somewhere in the background.

 

* * *

 

          Aldous Leekie didn't know what he'd done to deserve a day like today but the fact remained that the entire DYAD institute had been evacuated and he was stood among the throng of employees outside the building, watching as the fire department piled in with a strong sense of purpose.

 

          "There's top secret projects in there," Aldous lamented sorrowfully, "who knows what'll happen if they find the bionics department. We're developing a _terminator_ for Christ's sake-"

 

          "I won't apologise for my weed, ok?" Cosima interrupted with an uncharacteristic scowl. She was huddled against Delphine, trying to ignore all the judgemental stares thrown her way. "Like it's not my fault the smoke alarms are so sensitive. I only had one or two."

 

          A slight pause.

 

          "Or like three, maybe four. I don't know, five tops."

 

          A very, _very_ slight turn of the head from Rachel Duncan who was stood a few feet away from them, as if she'd thought about giving Cosima a condescending look but then decided she was unworthy. Dr. Leekie, beside her, simply gave another exasperated sigh. It'd been a long, _long_ day.

 

          "That's not a valid excuse, Cosima."

 

          "You know what," Cosima replied, staring him hard in the eyes, "I came to DYAD to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now."

 

          A silence that made all the other silences of the day pale in comparison.

 

          Delphine gave a nervous laugh. "Hahaha...she's very cheeky, this one."


	8. In Sickness And In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alison has the worst day ever, Helena wants to protect the fishes, Cosima is a general clusterfuck, Sarah can't believe anything that's happening and Rachel indulges in so many death stares it borders on the physically impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update once again. I landed myself a job which is amazing in the way I now have actual income and can live off more than 60p pots of noodles, but sickening in the way I'm now part of the [glances around] [dramatically whispers] adult world.
> 
> I work incredibly long hours and have next to no time to write for pleasure which tragically means updates will be slower. However I refuse to give up on this fic because it brings me genuine joy to write and I've taken to trying to write sections of it at work in between projects. I don't know whether this has impacted on the 'flow' of the chapter since I haven't the time to read through it all and start rigorously editing things. It is what is it and further chapters will be what they will be. This is a fun hobby, at the end of the day, and work takes priority over it. I hope you can all understand!
> 
> Bless your faces each and every one and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> [Leans in close and whispers ardently about how much I love comments and how you should comment and how I will love you forever, almost as much as Helena loves Sarah but not quite because it admittedly borders on potential murder a lot of the time ok bye and god speed reading this chapter you brave soul]

* * *

 

** ROAD TO A HAPPY CLONE CLUB: UNDER CONSTRUCTION **

** CHAPTER EIGHT **

** IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH **

 

* * *

 

          Rachel didn't look well.

 

          This was a fact that all the clones agreed on, including Cosima who was prone to coughing up lung full's of blood whenever the feeling so took her. Unsurprisingly, Rachel herself adamantly refused to admit that there was anything _even slightly wrong_ with her and was sat hunched over her laptop at the kitchen table, skin an unsettlingly pale shade and hands shaking over the keyboard as she deliriously attempted to open her inbox.

 

          "She needs to go back to bed," Alison said quietly to the others, who had gathered around to witness the spectacle before them. It wasn't every day that Rachel Duncan, proclone and possible android, looked as though she might faint at any given moment.

 

          "She won't go, she's too shittin' stubborn," Sarah replied sympathetically, trying to disentangle herself from Helena who was marvelling at her face and incessantly whispering about their 'sestra connection' in hushed tones, "we'll have to drag her there and then...handcuff her to the bed or somethin'."

 

          "Sounds like our kinda night, Delphine," Cosima said with a knowing grin on her face, "am I right or am I right?"

 

          The shade of red that promptly encompassed Delphine's face was almost as astounding as Rachel's current pallor. _"Cosima!"_

 

          "Awwhh puppy, don't be embarrassed, come here-"

 

          "Would you two stop... _groping_ at each other for five seconds," Alison cut in, looking rather alarmed as the pair beside her started to engage in a serious case of PDA, "there are more _pressing_ matters at hand!" She gestured to Rachel, who had just attempted to dial a stereo remote and then pressed it firmly to an ear, thinking it was her mobile.

 

          "Hello," the proclone valiantly attempted, her voice uncharacteristically croaky and unsteady, "Rachel Duncan."

 

          "Christ, we've 'gotta help her, this is just embarrassin'," Sarah said firmly, unable to accept that somebody she'd always viewed as something of a rival could hit such a tragic and pathetic low, "Helena, get off me, _this ain't the time-"_

 

          "I love you sestra, let's run away together on road trip," Helena responded with great enthusiasm, clawing at Sarah's vest top.

 

          "Keep dreamin' meathead, we already did that once and you got yourself arrested, remember?"

 

          "Arrested with love," Helena blurted out, as if in a hurry to explain a feeling she couldn't quite comprehend, "for you and for a boy with hat."

 

          Glances exchanged between the group.

 

          "...Right, well I'm 'gonna go sort out Rach," Sarah eventually said, tactfully avoiding any further attempts at explanation from Helena as she prised the blonde's hands off her top, "someone keep an eye on Shakira over here."

 

          "With pleasure," Alison said, in a manner that indicated the direct opposite as she took a firm hold of Helena's arm.

 

          Sarah strolled leisurely over to Rachel's side and paused to take a glance at the proclone's laptop screen. She was made instantly aware of the severity of Rachel's illness when she saw that Rachel had ended up opening internet explorer instead of google chrome.

 

          That wasn't the kind of mistake made easily.

 

          "Fuckin' hell," Sarah breathed, taking a moment to look up at the others and give a solemn shake of the head, "you feelin' alright Ray Ray?"

 

          "Of course I am....don't ask stupid questions," came the friendly response from Rachel, who was looking exceptionally clammy and sweaty, "I am merely...undergoing minor...technical difficulties...too many toolbars...I'll have to inform Aldous...have another laptop sent over..." She shakily reached for an empty mug and began to dial the handle.

 

          Taking just a split second to appreciate the sudden and complete downfall of Rachel Duncan, Sarah decided to intervene before the proclone could work herself up into more of a delirious panic. "Duncan, you big dork, that's a mug. Put it down."

 

          "Don't tell me what to do," Rachel hissed back venomously, "I outrank all of you put together."

 

          "Technically you only outrank those two nerds," Sarah nodded towards Cosima and Delphine, "'cos they're the only ones workin' for you."

 

          Rachel took a moment to process this information, firstly staring blankly at Sarah and then at the group before her. She was swaying slightly in her seat and felt as though the room was spinning around her.

 

          Before Rachel Duncan fainted, she offered just four more words to the group.

 

          _"Disgusting,_ all of you."

 

          Then there was a dull _thud!_ as she fell from her seat and gracefully hit the floor.

 

* * *

          "You didn't even _try_ to catch her," Alison stressed, a firm grip on Rachel's legs.

 

          "Yeah well maybe the hit on the head will improve her personality," Sarah retorted defensively, carrying the weight of Rachel's top half, "she's done worse to us anyway, we still don't know what those blood vials in the fridge were for."

 

          The group, who were shuffling awkwardly down the hall towards Rachel's bedroom, all glanced suspiciously in Delphine's direction (with the exception of Helena, who had become distracted by the fish tank and was pressed firmly against it again, eyes wide and unblinking).

 

          "I, uh, I do not...know anything....about the vials," Delphine said uncomfortably, "I just...I...I don't know who would...know about that..."

 

          "Ain't gettin' any less shady over there cocker spaniel," Sarah huffed, taking a moment to re-adjust her hold on the unconscious proclone.

 

          Alison watched with great impatience. "Sarah, no, _no._ That's not how you hold a body. Under the arms. Centre your balance and take the _weight_ , Sarah-"

 

          "Yeah, yeah, alright Alison! We ain't all as efficient at dealing with bodies as _you_ are-"

 

          "What's that supposed to mean?!"

 

          "Exactly what it sounded like, fringe face."

 

          _"Fringe face?!"_

 

          "Dudes, _dudes_ , you're going to _drop_ her!" Cosima's voice interrupted vitally, as Rachel came perilously close to slamming onto the ground for the second time that day. Unfortunately, Alison and Sarah, seemed rather more focused on their argument than their grips on the proclone.

 

          "You apologise immediately!" Alison said, in a rather flustered manner.

 

          "Oh, come off it-" Sarah started.

 

          "No, I won't abide name calling! You say you're sorry!"

 

          Sarah scowled. "Alright, christ...sorry, yeah?"

 

          "Good. I forgive yo-"

 

          "Soccer bitch."

 

          A very severe flinch jolted through Alison's body. It was the flinch of a woman who, having been a typical suburban mom at heart for so long, still instinctively felt offensive remarks (aimed at her or her family) were inexcusable but now, admittedly, found murder a bit of a morally grey area. Rachel's legs were dropped and forgotten about as Alison pointed a finger accusingly at her mirror image. _"Don't talk to me like that you low life grifter-"_

 

          "Oi! You just said you don't like name callin'!"

 

          "Yes well....you....just... _shush!"_

         

          _"Did you just shush me-"_

 

          "Stop flapping your mouth and hold Rachel properly!"

 

          "You're not even-"

 

          _"Shush!"_ Alison finished in a very strict and motherly tone, her glare so fierce that Sarah found her mouth was hanging open but no words were coming out. It wasn't every day that the punk couldn't produce a comeback and Cosima was staring at the scene in a slightly amazed and positively delighted manner. Delphine simply felt like she was watching a mother scold one of her children with another child looking gleefully on, happy that she wasn't in the firing line.

 

          ...Plus an unconscious Rachel Duncan half slumped on the floor. _Merde,_ was her lipstick smudged? There'd be hell to pay...

 

          Alison eventually lowered her finger and took a hold of Rachel's legs again. She jerked her head at Rachel's door, prompting Sarah (who was scowling _for all she was worth_ ) to continue shuffling back towards it.       

 

          Blissful silence descended, marred only by the sound of shuffling feet.

 

          "SESTRA'S HAVE YOU MADE BLOOD PACT BEFORE?" Helena's voice suddenly called from back down the hallway.

         

          A split second pause.

 

          Everyone's feet started shuffling faster.

 

* * *

          Sarah and Alison had managed to edge hurriedly into Rachel's bedroom and slam the door shut. Unfortunately for Cosima and Delphine, who had been behind Sarah and Alison and had not been able to dart round them in time, the sound of Helena charging purposefully down the hallway had signalled the end, they presumed, of their lives.

 

          _"I love you,"_ Cosima said dramatically, as she was swept into Delphine's arms.

 

          _"Je t'aime,"_ Delphine replied as equally melodramatically, clutching onto her girlfriend tightly.

 

          They buried their heads into each other's necks and waited for death to come swiftly upon them in the form of a wild, blonde haired serial killer who had an _unconquerable love_ for jell-o. It became apparent and completely undeniable after a few moments, however, that they were both still very much alive. They awkwardly raised their heads. Turned their gazes to the side. Were faced with a green parka, wide eyes and a hand clutching tightly onto a knife.

 

          Helena's close proximity (mere inches away) also did little to ease the pair's concerns over their impending mortality.

 

          "We must make a blood pact," Helena said, in a very rushed manner that indicated the idea had come upon her very suddenly and with _great force_ , "to protect the fishes."

 

          She was answered with bewildered and more than slightly alarmed stares.

 

          Helena reasoned that a little back story might help illustrate her point more clearly. "I made blood pact once," she began with a deep breath and a racing heart, "with bad man who tried to take my jell-o."

 

          More blank stares. From inside Rachel's room, the sound of Sarah and Alison bickering heatedly about Sarah having just allowed Rachel's head to slam against a desk could be heard (Sarah had also immediately joked about the situation by referring to her act as "slammin' head duncan" which Alison believed was in very poor taste).

 

          Helena, apparently unaware or uncaring of what was happening in Rachel's room, continued her quest to save the fishes. Her story must be told. Then everybody would understand and they would make the blood pact.

 

          "I was walking down alley with jell-o pot in my hands," Helena explained hurriedly, as if the words were welling up in her chest faster than she could get them out, "It was going to be nice jell-o and it was mine. But bad man jumped from behind dumpsters with a gun. Told me to give him my money. I said no, I didn't have any money, I had just spent it on this nice jell-o. He told me to turn out my pockets and I said no because it was my parka and I had to be careful with it, it has holes in it and I like it. Then he tried to grabbed me. Tried to search in my pockets. There was a struggle. He shot my jell-o," here, Helena had to take a moment to gather herself as if the memory of the event was still enough to cause genuine grief, "he shot my jell-o so I made a blood pact to kill him. A blood pact with his own blood. It was messy. Over very quickly. The ground was red and my jell-o pot was not nice. I couldn't eat it anymore. I had no jell-o that day, but he will never have jell-o again."

 

          A very long, hanging silence, weighted down with a past murder and a leaking jell-o pot left on a cold, hard pavement. A green parka with holes in it. An empty bullet case rolling under a dumpster.

 

          Cosima cleared her throat awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to the information presented before her by Helena without warning or invitation. "...Yeah...right...well that's....that's..." She glanced to Delphine for help. Something encouraging would have to be said since they didn't want to potentially offend a known murderer and also because Cosima had been a great advocator of trying to include Helena in the group. Making the blonde feel like her conversational inputs were appreciated, no matter how strange or grizzly, was unfortunately part of the plan.

 

          "...It was...I mean...it was a very...moving...story?" Delphine suggested, looking just as lost for words as her girlfriend.

 

          _"No,"_ Helena said hotly, glowering at the two of them as though they'd completely missed the point of her tale, _"this is about the fishes."_

 

          Another silence. Another round of staring. (Alison and Sarah had managed to dump Rachel onto her bed and could know be heard arguing about whether it was best to leave her high heels on or not. Sarah wanted to remove them because she knew how much it would annoy the proclone and she wanted to see how the "geek ass nerd" would react, whereas Alison was adopting a more civil approach and wanted to leave them on since "none of us really know if she actually has feet or whether the heels are just an extension of herself").

 

          "I don't...I'm not totally following you-" Cosima began truthfully.

 

          "We must make blood pact to protect the fishes from bad men," Helena cut in, as if clarifying a matter that was completely ordinary and obvious, "....and also bad women. I knew a nun in convent. Sister Olga. She put me in cellar and I popped out her eyes. She was a bad woman. We must protect the fishes from all."

 

          "I just...I think...maybe we should ask Sarah, yeah? Let's go and see Sarah," Cosima suggested hopefully, inching towards Rachel's door with Delphine. Sarah's name was usually a sure fire way to diffuse a potentially dangerous situation with Helena.

 

          Today, however, Helena was in no such mood to negotiate on the matter. She raised the knife ominously. "No, we must act _now-"_

 

          Suddenly, and thankfully for Cosima and Delphine, there was a loud crash from inside Rachel's room and a series of yells and shrieks.

 

          "FUCK DUNCAN, THEY'RE ONLY HEELS, I'M NOT TRYIN' TO KILL YOU-"

 

          "RACHEL PUT THAT SYRINGE DOWN OR SO HELP ME-"

 

          "WHERE THE FUCK DID SHE GET SO MANY NEEDLES FROM-"

 

          "WE ALL JUST NEED TO CALM DOWN-"

 

          "RACHEL YOU BITCH-"

 

          "OH FISHSTICKS, NOT IN HER NECK - _NOT IN **HER NECK-"**_

         

* * *

          Helena had not taken Rachel's assault on her beloved sestra kindly. In fact, upon hearing Sarah's yells, she'd hurled herself past Cosima and Delphine, through the door and into the fray in the most energetically violent manner possible. This mainly involved leaping on Rachel and attempting to strangle her, which Alison stood by and watched motionlessly due to a rare and worrying quality of remaining completely passive in the face of a fellow human's imminent death. Cosima was less stationary on the matter and hurried into the room with Delphine only to witness Sarah staggering towards them, clutching her neck.

 

          "Bloody proclone's only gone and shittin' stabbed me with a syringe," were her last words, gasped out in a fairly disbelieving manner before she promptly dropped to the floor.

 

* * *

          Rachel had injected Sarah with some kind of high powered tranquilizer, Team Science Mega Force deduced later on as Sarah lay unconscious and dribbling on one of the sofa's. Helena was crouched beside her, having been forcibly removed from Rachel's immediate vicinity by a joint effort from Cosima and Delphine when they suddenly realised she was about to try and stab the proclone directly in the face. Helena was now gently, almost cautiously, brushing a hand through her sestra's hair from time to time.

 

          "I will kill her," were Helena's first friendly words since the incident. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the murderous statement was directed at.

 

          "Dude, we'd all _like_ to kill her," Cosima replied, simply thankful that Helena had forgotten all about the blood pact for now. She watched, with a slightly raised brow, as Sarah let out a loud snorting noise (presumable a snore) and then feel silent once more. "This is totally not radical."

 

          "Well maybe you could do something constructive, Cosima," Alison suggested tetchily from her seat on the sofa opposite, "like waking her up."

 

          "No can do, she's got to sleep it off," Cosima replied casually, inspecting one of her dreadlocks, "she'll wake up in like an hour or two I guess."

 

          Alison gave a discontented huff at this. "Fine, but somebody's going to have to watch Rachel. I don't trust her on her own, she might be deliriously authorising our assassinations for all we know."

 

          "We should leave her to rot," Helena hissed, leaning so close to Sarah that her nose was pressed firmly against her cheek.

 

          "Well maybe not _rot_ , but I kinda agree," Cosima said, glancing to Alison, "or are you volunteering for first shift?"

 

          "I will go," Helena said, getting to her feet (the suggestion didn't bring a wealth of comfort to those around her). Cosima might have wrestled a knife out of her hand earlier, but unbeknownst to everyone else Helena had another strapped in the side of her left boot. And one in the right inside pocket of her parka. There was one in the left inside pocket of her parka too. There might still be one somewhere in the mane of her hair actually, now she came to think of it. She was sure she'd hidden one in there for safekeeping about a week ago but she hadn't found it since.

 

          Unfortunately for Helena and her incredible forward planning, nobody was looking particularly enthusiastic about her selfless voluntary gesture. Helena couldn't help but notice that Alison was even doing that thing where she started touching her neck when she got nervous. The ex-serial killer (or rather, serial killer on standby so long as her fellow sestras continued to meddle in her affairs) narrowed her eyes.

 

          "I can watch the window woman," she emphasized seriously. _Watch her die-_

 

          "We have no doubt you could watch her," Delphine said hurriedly.

 

          "No doubt at all," Cosima agreed, gesturing wildly with her hands, "it's just that if Alison went instead she could...you know..."

 

          "Make a lovely broth," Delphine finished helpfully.

 

          Cosima eyed her girlfriend closely. "Really? You know 'broth' but you don't know 'goalkeeper'?"

 

          "Goalkeepie?"

 

          "No, 'goalkeeper'."

 

          "But it says in my book-"

 

          "Puppy, it's a typo, I've told you before-"

 

          "I haven't actually agreed to make a broth," came Alison's voice from the sofa.

 

          She wasn't having a good day. First of all she'd been covered in flour when opening her wardrobe door, which was a prank that had Sarah and Felix's names written all over it. Then the water in her shower had been cold because Cosima and Delphine had clearly gotten sidetracked during their own. Then there was Helena, who'd eaten the toast Alison had made for herself for breakfast when her back was turned. And then she'd eaten the second plate of toast when Alison was preoccupied with helping Sarah and Cosima free themselves from a practical joke Chinese finger trap, which Cosima had insisted on demonstrating to Sarah for 'science'. Then Rachel had appeared, a shadow of her former self (which was a blessing in many ways), and one thing had led to another and they were all here, trying to prevent a protective Helena from committing a brutal murder in their own house as Sarah lay unconscious and drooling on a sofa.

 

          As if that wasn't enough, Delphine had now assumed Alison would be happy to make a broth for the ailing proclone who'd just used the last ounce of her strength to stab Sarah in the neck.

 

          Well no. No more walking all over Alison Hendrix. She deserved better than this mad house. She'd been in a production of Steel Magnolia's for God's sake. Didn't these people know where to give respect where respect was due?

 

          Alison opened her mouth to finalize her decision. _Rachel wouldn't be getting any broth today -_

 

          But then Cosima turned to face her, making her dorky turtle face as she adjusted her glasses. And Delphine beside her, puppy dog eyes wide and pleading. Helena...a new knife in hand, trying to make her escape while Cosima and Delphine's backs were turned?!

 

          _Oh, to Dickens with it all - !_

 

          "Yes, yes, fine! I'll make her a broth and take first shift," Alison finally conceded, getting grumpily to her feet and flinging a finger in Helena's direction. The back of her green parka had just disappeared down the hallway. "But the two of you are going to have to deal with the resident lunatic again."

 

          Cosima just about had time to utter the word "Shit" before she and Delphine promptly tripped over each other and sprinted down the hallway after her.

 

* * *

          Alison Hendrix had always been one to speak her mind and adopt a no-nonsense attitude. She was a mother of two children, an established actress and a burgeoning alcoholic and part time murderer. There were standards to maintain.

 

          Yet she found there was a growing sense of unease settling over her as she neared Rachel Duncan's room. There was something about the blonde that set her on edge, perhaps even more so than Helena. Whether it was the constant threat of death in a calculating and impersonal manner that radiated from her presence or simply the aggressive haircut, cold shark eyes and insistence on wearing blood red lipstick - Alison wasn't sure. Maybe it was the fact she'd just seen Rachel ruthlessly stab Sarah in the neck with a sharp needle.

 

          Whatever the reason, Alison wasn't overly looking forward to spending some quality time with Rachel. The two barely spoke to one another, truth be told. They'd both reached for the jam at the same time during breakfast once, which had resulted in an awkward grazing of hands and Rachel sharply snapping her arm back to her side as if she'd just been burnt. The proclone had never been one for processing human contact particularly well, it had to be said.

 

          With a sigh as heavy as her guilty conscience was over Aynsley's unfortunate demise, Alison entered Rachel's room, bowl of broth in hand.

 

          "No," was the very first word which left Rachel Duncan's mouth upon the brunette's entrance. She was sitting in bed, a stack of papers optimistically laid out on her lap. She was peering groggily at one paper in particular, which had 'NEOLUTION' and 'DYAD INSTITUTE' printed as sub-headings.

 

          Alison wasn't one to give up so easily, however, and settled herself comfortably down on the side of the bed. 'Go hard or go home', had been Cosima's advice on dealing with the proclone, and Alison was determined to try and do just that.

 

          "I've made a broth for you."

 

          A slender brow was raised. Rachel turned to look at the bowl, though her bleary eyes took a few seconds to find it. She didn't say a word. She didn't need to. Her unimpressed gaze spoke volumes.

 

          "It's like soup," Alison clarified, the thought popping into her head that Rachel perhaps didn't have the kind of warm upbringing that regularly featured broth, "except people have it when they're ill."

 

          "I'm not ill," Rachel stated defiantly, eyes lifting to lock with Alison's, "I do not _get ill."_

 

          "You have flu," Alison continued bravely, feeling quite empowered and confident in her assertion since Rachel was staring at her with beads of sweat coating her forehead. Her pale and clammy hands were also shaking as they held onto the sheet of paper. The proclone's illness was really rather undeniable.

 

          Rachel, in contrast, was under no such opinion. She also wasn't blinking, which was a trait that both unnerved and slightly impressed her clone counterpart. "I do not have flu. I've been poisoned," she explained, voice cracking mid-sentence and causing a great dent in her dignity. She immediately continued her sentence, acting as though no such weakness had just presented itself so blatantly (pretending she had no human qualities was, generally speaking, the best action to take at all times). "That is the only reasonable explanation for my current...incapacities."

 

          "Rachel, I don't think-"

 

          "Sarah."

 

          "What?"

 

          "It was Sarah."

 

          The two stared at one another. The bowl in Alison's hands was getting quite hot.

 

          "You know, I sympathise with you about Sarah's pranks, I really do, but I highly doubt-"

 

          "We are going to come to terms," Rachel cut in, swaying a little from side to side. It was unclear who exactly the statement was aimed at and her eyes had become rather unfocused. Alison followed her unsteady gaze for a few seconds longer before deciding it was time for her motherly instinct to kick it up a notch.

 

          "Right," the brunette announced, placing the bowl on the bedside table and getting to her feet, "that's enough of this. You have to rest."

 

          "I have an important skype call-"

 

          "No," Alison replied caringly and sympathetically as she swung most of Rachel's papers off the bed and to the floor, "you're going to eat and then you're going to sleep."

 

          This particular statement, along with the sight of all her meticulously ordered papers flying through the air, seemed to cause Rachel a great deal of difficulty. In fact, she couldn't process it at all. Mainly because she was _Rachel Duncan_ and she _gave_ orders and didn't _take_ them. "I shan't-"

 

          "You shall."

 

          "Cosima will suffer until you come to heel."

 

          Alison continued shifting papers. A vaguely alarmed look briefly crossed Rachel's face, as though she hadn't been aware that this kind of threat didn't work in every kind of situation. The realization, however, was now slowly sinking in as Alison deftly defied orders and sat herself next to the proclone, broth in hand once again.

 

          "Would you like me to feed you or can you feed yourself?"

 

          This was the kind of question that simply was not asked of Rachel Duncan. She didn't know how to react. She wasn't even entirely certain the question _had_ been aimed at her. It couldn't have been because she was _Rachel Duncan_ and she was better than everyone else. Of course she could feed herself. That went without saying. She was the mastermind of a thousand different intricate webs of lies and deception and generally unethical dealings. She authorised fifty morally questionable plans of action every day before anybody else in the house had even woken up. She was, without doubt, the most successful clone out of the whole ungrateful bunch-

 

          "Here comes the airplane," Alison said in a forcefully cheery way, sending a spoon in the general direction of Rachel's face.

 

          It wasn't met with a great deal of enthusiasm. In fact, it could be argued it was met with none. The spoon hit the area between Rachel's nose and upper lip, bounced off, and half the contents of it spilt into Rachel's lap. The proclone hadn't moved an inch and was instead staring in silent, dangerous fury at the brunette beside her.

 

          Alison also wasn't looking greatly impressed with her own endeavour. This was mainly because it had gone disastrously wrong within seconds of the spoon launch, but was also because there was now _broth_ on Rachel's bed sheets and Alison just knew that stain would be absolute _murder_ to-

 

          "Get out."

 

          "Exactly," Alison agreed, thoughts still focused on the broth stain.

 

          _"Get out now,"_ Rachel re-emphasized, jaw clenched, "or I will send you in for testing at DYAD with immediate effect."

 

          Alison held Rachel's gaze for a few seconds longer. Saw how serious her clone was, despite her current ill health. Gained the impression that Rachel was formulating a million different ways to have her silently and brutally murdered. Slowly stood up. Placed the bowl of broth gently down on the bedside table.

 

          "I'll...well, yes, I'll just..." she managed, before awkwardly clearing  her throat.

 

          It took exactly five stiff steps to leave the room and Alison could feel Rachel's furious stare boring into her back the entire way (it was so intense it was a wonder her clothes didn't spontaneously set alight half way across the room).

 

* * *

          Alison's shift hadn't gone well. Cosima's was little better.

 

          She'd sort of half-bounced into the blonde's room before remembering that this was, in fact, Rachel Duncan and Rachel Duncan didn't like any semblance of happiness taking place near her. So the bounce had turned suddenly and jarringly into a strange kind of lurch, which had meant to be more of a purposeful stride but Cosima had lost her balance and attempted to abort the whole endeavour halfway through. Her body was unfortunately still committed to the mission, however, which was why the lurch came about and, tragically, descended into a full on tripping-over-feet-and-falling-over situation.

 

          There had been a couple of seconds of complete silence as Cosima disappeared from view just as quickly as she had come. Rachel, still in bed and valiantly attempting to open skype on her laptop, hadn't even graced her clone counterpart with a side glance.

         

          "Stacked it," Cosima had said, gawkily gesturing to herself as she hopped to her feet once again. There was no reply from the blonde on the bed. She hadn't even acknowledged Cosima's dorky sheepish grin.

 

          More silence, broken only by Rachel unsteadily pressing a few keys on her laptop.

 

          Cosima had glanced about her. She'd seen the papers littering the usually immaculate floor. "Yo, you want me to pick these up?" she'd asked, a hand catapulting itself instinctively into a wild display of gestures. Regrettably, her hand had shot out a little too eagerly and with scant regard for where precisely it was headed.

 

          This was how the forgotten bowl of broth came to fly off the bedside table and directly into Rachel's laptop screen, just as a skype video call with Marion Bowles had popped up. (Marion, sat miles away at her desk, saw only a brief glimpse of a rather pale and sweaty looking Rachel Duncan before a strange object flew into view and the screen had gone black. She'd dedicated just a few seconds to staring blankly and uncaringly at the ended skype call. She couldn't believe this was the culmination of Project LEDA. How had they caused DYAD so much trouble? How the hell did any of them get anything done?)

 

          Rachel had turned her head slowly, ever so slowly and dramatically, in Cosima's direction. The two had exchanged stares. Cosima had decided this was way more interaction with Rachel Duncan than she'd have liked for one day. She'd awkwardly reached out and picked up the bowl, which had been upturned beside the laptop. The rest of its contents slowly slopped out all over the bed sheets.

 

          A sort of half-grin, half-apologetic-look from Cosima. "Sorry, dude."

 

          Rachel Duncan had said nothing. She'd been sitting in a bed of cold broth, shattered dignity and growing hatred. She was going to end all of their lives if it was the last thing she did.

 

          "Man, getting those stains out is 'gonna be ccoommpplleexx," Cosima had continued, slowly backing away. She'd pointed to the door. "I'll see myself out. Keep, like...doing your thing, y'know?"

 

          And then Cosima Niehaus had given Rachel Duncan the A-OK hand sign which, considering the damage she'd just done, served only to fuel Rachel's fury rather than quench it.

 

          Cosima had left the room, empty bowl in hand, and couldn't shake the feeling she'd somehow just signed her own death warrant.

 

* * *

          When Sarah woke up, it wasn't to good news. In fact, she was faced with potentially the worst news of her life.

 

          _Rachel Duncan had moved into her bedroom._

 

          This was hideous for many reasons. Rachel was a big stupid nerd and had a dorky haircut to match. She'd organize anything she came across and Sarah just _knew_ the proclone would've made a beeline for her nicely haphazard pile of CDs. There'd be constant tutting noises of disapproval as Rachel gazed around the room. Maybe a few passive aggressive sighs over the slightly crooked posters with curling corners. The bed would be made and the pillows and cushions would be plumped and Rachel would be lying straight as a knife under the tightest tucked duvet known to humankind. She'd have one of her stupid sleep masks pulled over her eyes. The alarm would be set to 5:00am despite the fact she was ill. She'd probably start talking in her sleep about neolution and genetics.

 

          _And she'd just stabbed Sarah in the neck with a syringe._

 

          Despite all of these thoughts flooding Sarah's mind within seconds, all she could manage was a disbelieving _"Shite"_ as she slowly sat upright on the sofa and tried to get her bearings.

 

          She was unhappy to find that Helena was already taking the opportunity to crawl into her lap and stroke her sestra's face more than Sarah might have liked. Which was not at all, as it happened.

 

          "Sestra, you are awake," Helena said with great adoration and love.

 

          "Yeah, you caught me," Sarah said with a genuine lack of interest, pushing Helena back a little, "give me some space, yeah meathead?"

 

          "Do not call me this-"

 

          "So would you like to borrow my sleeping bag or not, Sarah?" Alison's voice interrupted. She was stood beside the sofa, hands on her hips and impatience written all over her face.

 

          Sarah stared up at her in confusion. She couldn't have heard right. "Do _I_ 'wanna borrow a sleepin' bag?"

 

          "Yes."

 

          "Me? Not robot bitch who just shittin' tranquilized me?"

 

          "That's what I said."

 

          "No. No fuckin' way, you must be losin' your mind, Alison," Sarah snapped, trying to get unsteadily to her feet (which was no mean feat with Helena clinging onto her like some kind of weird, feral animal baby), "I'm 'gonna sleep in _my_ bed and Rachel can suck a d-"

 

          _"Duuudes,"_ Cosima's voice cut in from the direction of the other sofa. She was curled up, bare foot, with both fingers currently stuck in the Chinese finger trap. "This shit is _off the charts."_

 

          Sarah looked to Alison. It was the look of a woman slowly sinking into the deepest, darkest depths of despair. "Is she high again?"

 

          "Well-"

 

          An eruption of giggles from Cosima as she wiggled her fingers within the trap. Her brows were raised to an almost impossible degree while her eyelids were so heavy she could barely see through her squint. 'High' was an understatement.

 

          "Look at my fingers," she said, raising her hands to the other clones while shaking her head in amazed disbelief, "they're so _connected_ right now-"

 

          "Where the bloody hell is Delphine?" Sarah demanded.

 

          Alison gave a huff. "There was an important call from DYAD. Someone 'Bowles', I think. Something to do with a skype call gone wrong-"

 

          "So we're left with Cosima Weedhaus over here," Sarah gestured to Cosima, who was laughing so much her eyes were beginning to water, "and Miss Pro-crazy in my bedroom?"

 

          _"And me,"_ Helena enthused with a big smile, arms wrapped tightly around Sarah's waist.

 

          Alison and Sarah gazed at her in silent grief.

 

          "No, I'm done," Sarah finally declared, holding up her hands in defeat, "I've already been tranquilized today, yeah? I ain't dealin' with any of this shite and I _definitely_ ain't sharin' a room with Rachel bloody Duncan."

 

* * *

          Sarah was sharing a room with Rachel Duncan.

 

          It had come about in a very bitter and hostile manner, wherein Alison had taken unfair advantage of Sarah's still groggy and unsteady state and bundled her into her bedroom.

 

          "It's your turn to watch her," Alison had said, throwing the sleeping bag in after her.

 

          "She hates you the most, which for Rachel is the closest thing to love," Alison had said, struggling to fend off Helena behind her, who was clawing at her back and doing her best to be reunited with her sestra.

 

          "She's ill, you know, you could have some sympathy," Alison had said before finally slamming the door shut.

 

          And then, from the direction of the bed came the unmistakable voice of Sarah's worst nightmare.

 

          "Sarah, I believe you've mistaken my room for a homeless shelter."

 

* * *

          _"Your room?!"_ Sarah spluttered indignantly, unable to quite comprehend what was happening, "What the hell are you on? This is my room you shittin' dork-"

 

          "You'll have to schedule an appointment if you want to discuss your grievances," Rachel said smoothly, signing a sheet of paper and reaching for the next, "I'm very busy."

 

          Busy? _Busy?!_ Sarah ground her teeth together with such intensity that Rachel could hear it from her seat on the bed, not that she outwardly acknowledged such a fact.

 

          _Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!_

 

          Sarah was storming about, kicking the sleeping bag and pushing over the neat pile of CDs on her desk.

 

          _Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!_

 

          Sarah wasn't happy.

 

          "I thought you were ill anyway you bloody psycho?" Sarah demanded.

 

          "Yes, I appear to be recovering," Rachel replied good-naturedly, pen swirling around the bottom of the page as she finished off her elaborate signature.

 

          A pause.

 

          "From your poison."

 

          "Fuck off," was Sarah's instant and friendly reply.

 

          Rachel inhaled just that little bit more sharply through her nostrils. _Disapproval, disapproval, disapproval._ Sarah couldn't stand it.

 

          "Sorry, you think I spent time plottin' to lace your coffee with some kinda' weird poison from one of Cosima's sciencey cabinets or somethin?"

 

          "Well, you seem to know more about it than I do," Rachel replied, voice velvety and infuriating as always.

 

           "You sure you're not still ill?" Sarah snapped back, "'cos you're chattin' a lot of bollocks."

 

          "Charming as always, Sarah. Now if you don't mind I have work to catch up on."

 

          Sarah didn't budge. This was essentially because it was her room and she wasn't warming to the idea of being dismissed from it by some proclone dork who'd just decided to move in. "Duncan, get out my room."

 

          More swirls on paper.

 

          "Duncan."

 

          "This is my room, Sarah," Rachel explained slowly, as if to somebody suffering from a severe and tragic lack of intelligence, "I shan't be going anywhere."

 

          "This is just 'cos you can't be bothered to wash your sheets, ain't it? Alison told me all about it."

 

          A pause.

 

          An idea.

 

          A grin appearing on Sarah's face.

 

          "Christ," she drawled, genuine joy blossoming in her heart, "you don't know _how_ to wash your sheets, do you?"

 

          Of course Rachel didn't. She didn't have the faintest idea where to begin. That was the kind of thing _lesser_ people did _for_ her. She chose not to hear Sarah's question. It was a stupid question. She was signing papers.

 

          "Bloody hell," Sarah said, unable to quite contain her happiness at such a revelation, "this is great. This is amazin', holy shite."

 

          "Sarah, if you have nothing productive to say I recommend you keep your mouth shut."

 

          "So you're in _my_ bed 'cos you haven't got your _own_ bed 'cos you don't know how to wash your sheets?"

 

          "My patience is wearing rather thin," Rachel said coldly, her signature looking harsher with every paper that went by, "I suggest you leave."

 

          Sarah bit her lip to stop from laughing. Because it was laughable, really. Here was this emotionless, ruthless, possibly android woman who wore lipstick the shade of blood and heels that could crush a skull if the feeling so took her. She belittled, she demanded, she ordered, she took, she hated, _she hated, she hated._ The very light around her seemed to be repelled from her existence.

 

          And yet something as simple as some unwashed sheets could completely undo her.

 

          Sarah watched the blonde snatch another paper. _Swirl, swirl, swirl._ Her hands were still a little shaky. She was still a little pale. She wasn't completely well again, no matter what she said.

 

          "Are you planning to gawp at me all day or do you have something more productive to do?" Rachel asked, voice as dispassionate and detached as always.

 

          "I can show you how to wash 'em, if you like." The words had left Sarah's mouth before she quite knew what she was saying.

 

          "That is quite unnecessary."

 

          "I'm not havin' you sleepin' in my room, Duncan."

 

          "This is _my_ room, Sarah. We've been through this."

 

           Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Oh yeah?"

 

          "Yes."

 

          Sarah reached for her CDs. This meant war.

 

* * *

          Alison and Cosima couldn't believe what they were seeing. Cosima perhaps more so because she was so high she could barely function, but still - _it was a sight to behold._

 

          Sarah Manning and Rachel Duncan were stood beside the washing machine, bickering heatedly about the best way to remove broth stains. Sarah had bed sheets bundled in her arms and Rachel was flicking the dials and buttons on the machine irritably. Neither party was happy.

 

          "It's no good that bloody cold, Duncan. You're tryin' to clean it, not spin it in some 'kinda arctic puddle-"

 

          "I'm well aware of what I'm doing, thank you Sarah."

 

          "No you ain't you big dork, you've just set it on drain."

 

          The pair had entered the kitchen not long before, after the very loud sound of Sarah's rock music had blasted through the house, causing everything to shake. Rachel had withstood the assault for precisely ten seconds and then gotten out of Sarah's bed and ordered her to wash her sheets. Sarah had accepted, but only on the condition that Rachel helped. This was devastating news to the proclone, who believed she was _far above_ such menial tasks. But the incessant bass and screeching guitar solos burned straight through her ears and into her skull and she found she had no choice.

 

          Anything to get back to her own room and away from Sarah's dire music taste.

 

          "Do you think they're like...almost friends or something?" Cosima asked Alison as Rachel triumphantly slammed the washing machine door on Sarah's fingers.

 

          Alison simply gave a small shake of the head and Helena, who had popped up out of nowhere and wedged herself between them, murmured quietly, "Not friends...but sestra's, yes."

 

          And that was when Helena gazed up at Cosima. She had a grip on one of the dreadlocked clone's hands, which was still locked in the finger trap. Cosima suddenly noticed there was a knife in the blonde's hand.

 

          "And sestra's make blood pact, yes?"

 

          Alison gave a shriek of alarm and Cosima, trying to back frantically away, had never struggled so hard to free herself from a Chinese finger trap in all her life.


	9. Call of Duty: Snow Warfare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's Christmas Eve and Helena finds herself in the middle of an all out snow war while Rachel and Delphine bring awkward conversation to a new level.
> 
> Also the author finally remembers Kira exists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't look at me like that. It wasn't my fault this update was so late, I SWEAR. I have a job? Do work things? Sometimes home very late? Get tired? Find it hard to write? ACCEPT MY EXCUSES.
> 
> This chapter was taking a long time to write. It was meant to be in time for Christmas. I thought to myself...what if I split it into two parts? Maybe even three, who knows? The chapters might be shorter but then at least my loyal legion of readers will actually have something to read? Yes. A good thing. Good idea. Will do. Here we go...
> 
> (Also the end of this chapter doesn't finish naturally...I don't think...but I'm having to chop the chapters into sections ok? Ok. At least your eyes can read some words now. Please love me and send me reviews, bless you all, we're all in this together this CHAPTER WILL BE FINISHED ONE DAY!)

 

_**Road to a Happy Clone Club: Under Construction** _

* * *

_**Nine (Part One).** _

_**Call of Duty: Snow Warfare** _

* * *

 

Helena was up a tree.

Why exactly she decided to scale the tree in the first place was a matter of debate. Helena was adamant she was there in order to do "the Lord's work", whilst Sarah was of the opinion she was "like a bloody monkey like Kira" and should "stop shittin' around before Alison sees".

Unfortunately, Alison entered the living space only seconds after the twins heated exchange. She was carrying a hefty cardboard box full of tinsel and wrapping paper and bows and ribbons and other festively over the top material that had Sarah longing for her halcyon punk days.

Why such a big box? Well, Alison had lots of wrapping to do, or at least that's what she'd said before she'd hurried off to fetch the box. "Mainly presents for Aynsley's family," had been her precise words, "I can't help but feel a bit...you know...bad."

Presently, Aynsley was forgotten as Alison was shooting a furious glare in Helena's direction. "Just what exactly does  _she_  think she's doing?"

"The angel must be here to watch over us on this holy day," Helena replied solemnly, entangled in the upper branches of the Christmas tree, "the little baby is going to be born soon."

Alison looked at Sarah. Sarah shrugged off any responsibility by means of giving a literal shrug. "Just leave Helena, yeah Alison?" She said exasperatedly, "I even tried lurin' her down with jell-o but she ain't havin' any of it-"

"We always have a star at the top of the tree in  _my_  house," Alison interrupted in a motherly tone - one that suggested the way she did things was automatically the  _correct_  way to do things and if Helena and Sarah didn't like it then they could just  _jog on._

Helena had never been the weak willed type though, and she stared down at Alison with large, intense eyes. "The angel is here to welcome the baby."

"The star  _guides_  the three wise men and the shepherds to the manger-" Alison began.

 _"Angel,"_  Helena emphasized passionately.

"Star-"

"Angel-"

"Star-!"

"Angel-"

"Star!"

"Angel!"

"You can't have everything your way just because you're a  _lunatic!"_

"Hey! HEY!" Sarah cut in immediately, pointing aggressively at Alison. The two held each other's gaze for a moment, glowering for all they were worth, before Sarah slowly and dramatically gestured towards Helena, who was still dutifully swaying in the branches behind them, "she's  _my_  lunatic-"

_"Oh for God's sake, Sarah!"_

"DO NOT USE THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN," Helena's voice boomed instinctively from across the room. She was rummaging hurriedly in one of her parka pockets.

 _Probably for a knife or a gun_ , Sarah thought unhappily to herself. Well, there were no two ways about it, Sarah would have to diffuse this potentially murderous situation  _immediately_  and with all the negotiating skills she'd honed from years living as a low life street stray con artist, thieving punk rock ho-

"HELENA," Sarah roared at the top of her lungs, "WOULD YOU JUST SHUT YOUR SHITTIN' MOUTH FOR TWO SECONDS-"

It was at this juncture that Helena produced a hefty Bible from her parka pocket. How it had even physically fit in there was absolutely inexplicable - but then again most of the things Helena did were absolutely inexplicable. Like getting impaled and living to tell the tale. And getting shot and living to tell the tale. Sarah had learnt to just let most things go by now. A large Bible was really one of the least worrying things Helena could have wrestled out of her pocket anyway. Honestly,  _what harm could it do - ?_

"DICKENS," was Alison's fleeting cry as the Bible smashed heavily into the side of her head.

"SHITE," was Sarah's shout as Alison's eyes immediately rolled into the back of her head and she promptly dropped to the floor.

The box of festive delights was left forgotten on the floor beside her, on its side and with a roll of ribbon merrily bouncing out and across the room.

* * *

Helena had been sent outside for a timeout.

She'd forlornly put on Felix's cycle helmet, which she'd grown very fond of, and given Sarah one last hopeful glance with her big, dark eyes.

"No," Sarah had snapped without a modicum of sympathy, "you know the rules meathead, you don't hurt anyone in clone club."

"What about window lady?" Helena had asked, brows knitted together.

"Yeah, well," Sarah huffed as she picked up Alison and began shuffling over to a sofa, "morally gray area that one, ain't it?"

A pause in conversation as Sarah had deposited Alison carelessly onto the sofa. A huff. A glare at the ribbon on the floor. A glance up at Helena. A scowl. " _Outside_ , Helena."

"It is very cold-"

_"Now."_

And with slumped shoulders, Helena had opened the front door and trudged into the snow.

* * *

_Trudge, trudge, trudge._

Helena was unhappy. She was looking at her feet.

_Trudge, trudge, trudge._

Helena wasn't looking where she was going.

_Trudge, trudge, trudge._

Helena bumped into someone. Helena gave a quiet apology. No response. Had she made someone else mad now? Helena looked up.

Helena stared into two dark eyes devoid of any life or emotion, like a demon or-

_THWACK!_

Something hit her starboard, in the ribs, hard but it had disintegrated on impact, her vitals were stable, from the speed it had been fired from close range, maybe from 9 o'clock, if she reacted quickly she could counter her enemy with a fast-paced, all-out offensive-

Helena reeled around, arm raised, knife already in hand, ready to be thrown in the direction of her assailant  _without mercy - !_

"Angel?" Helena said stupidly, frozen mid-action. She stared down at the girl a few feet away from her. She had a snowball in her hands and was beaming up at Helena. She had a nice woolly hat with a bobble on as well.

"Auntie Helena! You bumped into my snowman!" Kira gushed happily, apparently unaware of how close she'd been to an untimely and tragic death, "You shouldn't stand still in a snowball fight or you'll get hit again!"

And with that she sped off, hurling herself dramatically over a small mound of snow and seeking cover behind it. "Better find a hiding spot or Auntie Cosima will get you!" She called, peeking quickly round the mound to point at a full-on trench in the snow that apparently hid the other clone.

Helena paused for only a second more, still frozen in the same position with her arm in the air and knife in hand. But then she heard movement from the trench. Saw a glimpse of dreadlocks just peeping above and then-

_SNOWBALL INCOMING 3 O'CLOCK HIT THE DECK - !_

Helena dove to the ground just in time, the snowball whizzing over her.

"WE'VE GOT HER PINNED!" Cosima yelled from the safety of her trench, "PINCER MOVEMENT, DAWKINS, GO, GO, GO!"

A panicked response that sounded a lot like "I don't even know what a bloody pincer movement is!" before Helena heard hurried movement to the right of her. There was no time to lose. She'd be a sitting duck if she stayed out in the open like this. Helena stumbled to her feet, keeping herself hunched over as she made a break for the mound of snow Kira was behind.

Another snowball catapulted past her, just inches away from her head.

"FLANK HER, DAWNKINS, FLANK HER!"

"I'm try-eee _AAHHHH!"_

The sound of someone tripping and crashing down to the side of her. Helena spared only a second to glance round at her fallen foe; Felix slumped face first in the snow, legs in the air.

Another snowball flew by and then Helena was leaping for safety, arms outstretched. She landed next to the mound and crawled quickly behind it, huddling up close to Kira who was, by the looks of it, a one-girl munitions factory.

She grinned up at Helena and offered her a snowball from the great pile she had amassed. "Team?"

 _Team?_  Team sounded awfully like 'family' to Helena. She beamed at her Angel beside her and nodded. "Team."

* * *

Far, far away from the snow warfare taking place in the Clone Club's front garden, there was a woman with an aggressive blonde haircut.

She was standing in a large, minimally furnished hall in the DYAD Institute and couldn't have looked less like she was enjoying herself if she'd set herself on fire there and then.

It was the DYAD Christmas Party and Rachel had been forced to attend as Aldous had booked her in the give a speech at the beginning. And she'd given an excellent speech, as always, covering all of the most intricate and complex topics of neolution and genetics. It had been fascinating, mind-boggling, flawless and her voice had echoed out in the hall like smooth jazz or something equally velvety but  _powerful_  and she'd dropped some facts that were  _sure_  to incur the admiration of even the most intelligent scientists. and even  _Marion Bowles herself_.

But had Aldous been happy? No. Apparently she hadn't 'cultivated enough festive spirit in the company' and her 'attempt to refer to Christmas as a guilt based, money-spinning Capitalist scheme' had been unnecessary and unprompted.

 _Unprompted indeed!_  Rachel snorted into her wine glass. What a pompous old oaf Aldous was turning out to be. How dare he criticize her speech when his own speeches generally consisted of strange, bordering on uncomfortable impressions of Plato and other figures far greater than he could ever hope to be. She'd make him pay.  _She'd make them all pay-_

"Ah, bonjour, Rachel," a voice carelessly crashed through her deep, melancholy thoughts.

"That's Dr. Duncan, to you," Rachel replied icily, lowering her wine glass to take in the full and most unwelcome sight of Delphine Cormier.

A slight pause as Delphine shifted weight from either leg uncomfortably. "But you...uh...how do I say...are you really a doctor-"

"Yes," Rachel interrupted firmly.

Another pause. Awkward tension was rising rapidly between the two. Delphine had no idea why she'd ever thought saying hello to Rachel would be a good idea.

"It's just that I have never had confirmation from colleagues-"

"It is Dr. Duncan," Rachel reiterated, in such a frosty manner that she'd really left no room for debate.

The two continued to stand before one another. Delphine was glancing about uncomfortably. Rachel was staring intensely at her face.

"Are you having a nice time?" Rachel asked pleasantly.

"Très bon, yes," Delphine replied with a forced smile.

"You don't look like you are."

"Well, it is growing a little...boring, shall I say-"

"So you find my company boring?" Rachel demanded immediately.

Delphine flinched slightly, such was her alarm at the insinuation. "No, non! Just the general-"

"Do you find evolutionary genetics boring?"

"No, I-"

"Did you find my speech inadequate?"

"Absolutely not! No, I did not mean-"

"Are you saying you find your job boring, Dr. Cormier?"

Delphine looked as though the world, and the entire universe itself, was crashing down around her. She had never lost control of a conversation so speedily in her life. "No, I love my job, I promise you-"

But Rachel wasn't finished with her yet. "More than Cosima?"

Another awkward pause. Rachel swirled the wine in her glass round gently. Delphine wasn't sure how to react.

"I..."

"Do you put your job first or your subject first?" Rachel clarified, in all her infinite kindness.

"I do not view Cosima as a subject," Delphine replied firmly.

"Your job description begs to differ."

"Well you're as much a subject as she is-" Delphine began, looking thoroughly flustered and annoyed. Rachel's nostrils were flaring dramatically.

"Ladies!" Interrupted the unmistakable voice of Aldous Leekie. He moved in-between them, patting them both cheerily on the back, much to the irritation of both parties. "How are we both? Enjoying the party? Have you tried the turkey, it's deli-" It was at this point that his sentence came to an immediate halt. He was staring at Rachel's head and looked as though he'd been shot, such was the horror on his face. "...Rachel, you've taken your santa hat off-"

"You don't own me, I do as I wish," Rachel commented venomously, taking a generous sip from her glass.

Aldous stared at her, as though attempting to come to terms with a great trauma, before attempting to salvage the conversation. "...Well, as you can see we're wrapping up the party."

Rachel glowered at him. Delphine looked around bewilderedly. People were still dancing and laughing and eating. Marion was even on one of the tables, attempting to perform 'Let It Go'.

"But the, uh, the party is still very much in full swing, Dr. Leekie," Delphine said, brows knit together in confusion.

Aldous gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, no, no, no, no...no...it's not."

"But it is," Delphine insisted, gesturing at Marion who had now fashioned a wig out of silver tinsel as her performance continued.

Rachel decided to cut to the chase. "Are you trying to get rid of us, Aldous?"

"Good grief no!" Aldous responded, sounding personally offended, "No! Why ever would I-"

"Sarah Manning," Rachel said.

A slight pause. Aldous was frowning. "You know, not  _everything_  is to do with Sarah Manning, Rachel-"

"Rachel," a husky voice suddenly interrupted. Marion Bowles was no longer on the tabletop. She was stood perilously close to Rachel Duncan, with silver tinsel draped over her head and tumbling over her shoulders.

"Dr. Bowles," Rachel replied, in an equally husky voice.

The two leaned forward and engaged in not one, not two, not three, but four awkward, passive-aggressive kisses on cheeks.

Then there was silence. The two stared intensely at one another. Delphine and Aldous fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Are those new heels?" Marion asked.

"Yes," Rachel replied.

"They're lovely."

"Thank you."

Never had so few kind words been spoken with such hostility.

"Well," Aldous said at long last, "I was just saying to Dr. Cormier and Rachel-"

"Dr. Duncan." Rachel corrected.

"What-"

"Dr. Duncan."

"...Quite. I was just saying that the party is coming to a close so they best be off to beat the crowd. And then they'd both be back at the clone share house in time to document Project LEDA during such a critical time of year."

"Yes, what a good idea," Marion agreed, never breaking Rachel's gaze.

"I was leaving anyway," Rachel said, always taking power from a conversation where she could, "I grow tired of my present company."

"Well, now-" Aldous huffed, feeling thoroughly insulted.

"I was leaving too," Delphine interrupted, trying her best to stake her claim of power while she could. Unfortunately both Rachel and Marion turned to impart highly unimpressed stares in her direction. Delphine stared straight back at them, awkwardly standing her ground.

Rachel suddenly forced her glass into Aldous' hands and then turned on her heel and marched away, giving the distinct impression that she didn't care for a single life currently in the hall. Delphine did her best to simulate such passive-aggression, slamming her clutch bag into Aldous' chest. Sadly his hands were already full and the bag fell to the ground. It was also at this pivotal moment that Delphine remembered she needed her clutch bag as it had her purse in it.

She awkwardly stooped to pick it up again, gave both Aldous and Marion a flustered glance and said "I...I need this actually," before hurrying after the distant figure of Rachel Duncan.


	10. Call of Duty II: Arctic Assault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author enjoys nothing more than writing a dramatic, deep and reflective inner monologue by Rachel Duncan as she gets hit by a snowball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also in this chapter: Genuine full out Arctic assaults, brought to you exclusively by the Clone Club household.
> 
> And introducing: A certain bearded clone who escalates matters tenfold in the blink of an eye.
> 
> And a quick PSA from the author: I AM SORRY I TAKE SO LONG TO UPDATE PLEASE LOVE ME????

* * *

 

**NINE (PART TWO).**

**Call of Duty II: Arctic Assault**

* * *

     

          Sarah Manning and Alison Hendrix had stepped into a war zone.

 

          It had all been very sudden and neither party particularly felt like they deserved to be thrust straight into the jaws of battle. One minute ago Alison had been holding a frozen bag of peas to her head, complaining with a great _fervour_ about Helena's behaviour and general existence. One minute ago Sarah had been unsympathetically sighing and huffing and muttering "Shite" and "Christ" and "I didn't sign up for any of this bollocks."

 

          Then the two had moved to the front door, deciding they'd call Helena in for yet _another_ chat about 'house rules'. Sarah, incorrectly under the opinion that everyone outside was innocently playing together and probably making snow angels or igloos or some crap, had dared to open the front door and step outside. Alison had stepped out with her. And it was at this precise moment - exactly one second after stepping out of the front door - that the two realised they had accidentally stepped straight into an Arctic battlefield.

 

          The first thing they saw was Helena, cart wheeling dramatically across the frontlines with a very serious expression on her face as snowballs whizzed past her and slammed into the ground. The snowballs seemed to be coming from an actual real life genuine trench that had been dug into their front garden within the hour. The tops of Felix and Cosima's heads could be seen bobbing about within it as they threw snowball after snowball mercilessly in Helena's direction. Unbeknownst to them the little figure of Kira was flanking their left side, with an armful of snowballs which she was preparing to launch mercilessly at Felix's head.

 

          Sarah and Alison dedicated just five more seconds to staring at the sudden and ferocious hostilities taking place around them before Alison's voice boomed out loud and strong.

 

          "IS THAT A TRENCH IN _MY_ FRONT YARD?!"

 

          Everyone froze.

 

* * *

          The car ride back with Rachel Duncan was proving to be insufferable. Delphine had no idea why she hadn't just called for a taxi or walked back or done _anything other than accompany Rachel on her chauffeur driven ride home_.

 

          Instead here Delphine found herself, sat beside Rachel in the back of the car with smooth jazz playing softly from the speakers. And there Rachel was, busy staring into her compact mirror, studiously and meticulously applying layer upon layer upon layer upon layer of red lipstick.

 

          Whilst Rachel seemed perfectly content with everything this particular drive home had to offer, Delphine felt like she was being crushed by the sheer hollowness of it all. Why was there jazz playing when there should _obviously_ be some Christmas classics belting out? Why hadn't the driver wished _either_ of them a Merry Christmas? Why did it feel like it could just be _any other day_ when clearly it was _Christmas Eve_ and there should be some _festivity_ about the ride home-

 

          Delphine watched the red lipstick go round and round.

 

          _Merde._ Well this just wouldn't do. They still had a quarter of an hour to go before they reached the house share. And it was Christmas Eve. And neither of them were smiling. _They hadn't even shared a Christmas joke -_

 

          "What would you get if you crossed Santa with a duck?" Delphine suddenly blurted out with a great sense of urgency.

 

          The question ripped through the peaceful interior of the car like a knife. Rachel even flinched a little at the completely selfish and unwelcome intrusion. She was not happy. _She'd almost smudged her lipstick._

 

          "What?" Rachel demanded, not in relation to the joke but in relation to Delphine's _complete and utter stupidity-_

 

          "A Christmas quacker," Delphine finished hurriedly, sounding as though she'd immediately regretted her decision to tell the joke in the first place. She had edged as far away from Rachel as possible and was now staring out of the window with such determination that her face was pressed up against the glass.

 

          "I wasn't referring to the joke, Dr. Cormier," Rachel hissed back irritably, beginning her lipstick ritual once more. She couldn't believe Delphine had even thought for one fleeting second that she'd be _remotely_ interested in hearing the punch line of such a ridiculous joke. If she'd wanted to tell a good joke she should have just said Sarah's name. _That_ would have been laughable. Rachel smirked triumphantly to herself in the mirror at the thought.

 

          Unfortunately for Rachel, and for Delphine herself really, Delphine was opening her mouth again. She didn't want Rachel to feel like she'd won, that she'd shut her up, so the conversation would have to continue, no matter how quickly it dive-bombed.

 

          "Do you like ducks?" Delphine ventured forth valiantly.

 

          "Be quiet, Dr. Cormier, or I'll have you sent to Frankfurt."

 

          And that was that.

 

* * *

          Things had deteriorated very quickly back at the house share. Alison wasn't overly fond of the trench, as it happened, and was marching purposefully over to its location with the frozen bag of peas raised high above her head.

 

          "WHOSE IDEA WAS IT? HM? WAS IT YOURS FELIX?" She demanded, aiming the peas in his direction.

 

          "OH _CHRIST_ NO, DON'T KILL ME-"

 

          "COSIMA?"

 

          "DUDE PUT DOWN THE PEAS-"

 

          "WHO DECIDED THIS ACT OF SAVAGERY WAS OK? _YOU'VE DUG STRAIGHT THROUGH MY RHUBARB PATCH-"_

 

          **_THWUMP!_**

 

          Something soft thudded into Alison's stomach. She turned her gaze slowly in Kira's direction, who was giggling cheerfully and preparing another snowball for launch.

 

          "We're playing snow war, Auntie Alison!" Kira said cheerily, "You need to find cover!"

 

          Another snowball smooshed into Alison's puffy vest. She glanced at Cosima and Felix - a glance that said _this isn't over but Kira wants to play in the snow so we are going to play in the snow but I'm going to be throwing icicles at both of your heads and you will die in a shower of blood and frost_ \- and then she slowly lowered the frozen bag of peas.

 

          A deep, calming breath. "Very well," Alison said, "Give me ten minutes."

 

          With that said she was marching back into the house and slammed the door aggressively behind her. One distinctly gained the impression she was gearing up for the total and utter annihilation of an entire species.

 

          A slight pause. Felix weighed up his options. 

 

          "I'm switching teams!" He announced suddenly, scrambling out of the trench, much to Cosima's disgust.

 

          "What?! _Felix!"_

 

          "I don't want to be on your ruddy team anymore with your lobster movements and your bloody flanking!" Felix snapped back, ungracefully tumbling out of the trench and making his way to the house.

 

          "Well fine, I don't need you!" Cosima called back, feeling deeply rejected and personally insulted, "Go and be with Alison, she probably has concussion anyway!"

 

          "Better than being bloody mental like you!"

 

          Cosima imparted one last scowl for all she was worth, before she sunk back into the dark depths of her trench.

 

          Meanwhile, Sarah was feeling a little isolated as she stood on her own before the snowy battlefield. She gestured to her daughter. "Monkey! C'mere and we'll be a team, yeah?"

 

          "No," was the friendly call back from the side of the trench. Kira was building another mound of cover.

 

          Feeling just as rejected as her dreadlocked clone, Sarah had to take a few moments to register what had just happened. "What'd'ya mean no?!"

 

          "I'm already in a team!"

 

          Sarah was glowering. Just who exactly had stolen her _own_ child for their own team? "Well who's team are you in then?"

 

          It was at this point that Helena's beaming face peered round the mound of cover. She had lots of snow collected in her eyebrows and eyelashes. An excessive amount actually, all things considered. "HELLO SESTRA!" She boomed happily.

 

          "No!" Sarah snapped immediately, waving her arms and storming forwards, "No, no, no! Kira you're not being in a team with Helena, that's not _safe-"_

 

_**SMASH!**_

 

          A snowball hard and direct in the face. Sarah staggered backwards, clutching her nose. _"SHITE!_ WHAT THE-"

 

          "THIS IS A WARZONE, MANNING. MOVE IT OR LOSE IT," Cosima's voice called out from the trench. After Felix's traitorous actions, she didn't seem at all in the mood to play nice.

 

          "COSIMA WHERE IS YOUR CHILL-" Sarah began, only to have another volley of snowballs pelted her way. She leapt to the side and began to sausage roll determinedly out of harm's way. 

 

          Christ, this was as hectic as every shitstorm she'd already been through put together, Sarah stayed as low as possible, hoping Cosima wouldn't be able to pinpoint her amidst all the snow. Unfortunately, Sarah's 'punk rock ho' aesthetic meant she was also wearing an entirely black outfit. This made her quite the sitting target and Cosima had never been one to miss out on an advantageous opportunity.

 

          A hailstorm of snowballs. Sarah scrambled to her feet again as they smashed into the ground beside her. It had been a very narrow miss. Fine, if Cosima wanted to play hard then Sarah would play hard. What had it been Felix had said? Flanking? Well, it was time Cosima had a taste of her own medicine.

 

          Sarah darted to the right flank of the trench, making her way purposefully along the pavement beside the road. The ground was firmer here so she'd be able to gain more speed. Her eyes were locked firmly on the trench as she ran. She wasn't even blinking. She was on a vengeful mission. She was going to jump straight into that trench and wrestle that little turtle of a clone into submission and-

 

          **_SMACK!_**

 

          Sarah hit something hard and metal with a great deal of force. She crashed immediately to the ground, having no idea what had just happened or why she'd come to such an aggressive halt.

 

          It was at this point that Sarah realized there was an expensive car parked beside her on the road. A passenger door was open. She'd sprinted full pelt straight into it.

 

          "Sarah," came Rachel Duncan's velvety acknowledgement as she eased gracefully out of the car and stepped over Sarah's bewildered body beneath her.

         

          _Stupid bloody proclone with her piss-off alien haircut-_

 

          Sarah staggered back to her feet. She was trying not to look _too_ battered and winded, which was rather difficult since she was doubled over and leaning heavily on the car door. "Could've friggin' died there, Duncan!" She snapped defensively, trying to place at least _some_ blame on the other clone.

 

          "Well you should look where you're going," Rachel replied pleasantly.

 

          This was the most factual and correct response that could've been mustered. There was no denying just how right Rachel was in that exact moment. Sarah ground her teeth together. _She was 'gonna have to take Duncan down right this second-_

 

          "Cosima?!" Delphine's confused voice suddenly broke into the fray. She was beside the trench and peering confusedly into its deep, dark depths. "Mon amour, why are you in  hole?"

 

          "IT'S A TRENCH, DELPHINE. GOD!"

 

          An arm shot upwards, grabbed a rough hold of the blonde and dragged her unceremoniously down into the trench.

 

          Rachel was blinking quite vigorously at the scene. It seemed it was causing her some difficulty in processing - most likely due to its completely bizarre nature - but within seconds she'd regained a grip and was back to being her usual expressionless self. She glanced disinterestedly at Sarah. "What's going on?"

 

          "Snow warfare."

 

          Warfare? _Warfare._ Rachel's nostrils flared dramatically. "Has anybody died yet?"

 

          "Not like an actual war, you big dork. Christ," Sarah was now dusting herself down irritably. Rachel suddenly looked far less enthused about the whole situation.

 

          "I see," Rachel stated, turning on her heels.

 

          "Oi, no, no, no, no, where'd'ya think you're goin'?" Sarah said, grabbing a firm hold of one of Rachel's arms, "I ain't bein' the only one who ain't in a team."

 

          "Remove your hand this instant," Rachel snapped back harshly, glaring furiously at the brunette. _How dare she touch her and get her grubby little gutter hands all over her-_

 

          "Rach, do you really think you could make that long trek to the front door on your own? With Cosima and Delphine in that trench and Helena on the loose?"

 

          "Helena's on the loose?" Rachel echoed.

 

          Sarah gave a slow and solemn nod.

 

          This information changed things. The cogs in Rachel's brains were working overtime. It seemed the distance to the door was quite vast now that it had been mentioned. There was a lot of open ground to cover in very high heels. That would be difficult. Without Sarah, she'd have no protection amidst this wretched, childish game her clones were playing. Not that Rachel was about to admit that.

 

          "I have a proposition."

 

          Sarah had a huge smirk on her face. It was beyond irritating. "Oh yeah?"

 

          "Yes."

 

          "You 'gonna be in my team?"

 

          A slight twitch in Rachel's left eye, only there for a second and then gone. She refused to acknowledge it had happened. "I don't do teams," she said firmly, "However I do believe we could both benefit from a mutual agreement to utilise each other's skills within a confined space and time whereby both parties agree to work towards a shared goal without sabotaging one another's plans and you agree to do everything I say without question."

 

          "What was that last bit-"

 

          "You're already breaking the terms of the contract."

 

          "I ain't even agreed yet!"

 

          "If you're going to be like this Sarah then the agreement simply won't work," Rachel sniffed.

 

          Well, it was the best she was going to get from Rachel anytime soon. Sarah let go of the blonde's arm. "Alright, alright, I agree or whatever. Let's just get to some cover, yeah? Think up a game plan."

 

          "This isn't a game," Rachel replied instinctively, "We're going to make them come to terms."

 

* * *

          "Surely this camouflage is counter-productive? It should be blanc to fit in with the snow-"

 

          "Delphine I've been in this war longer than you and harder than you," Cosima hissed back, smearing more dirt and moss onto her girlfriends face, "You're just going to have to trust me."

 

          "You seem a little, uh, 'off', shall I put it?"

 

          "I lost Felix," Cosima said emotionally, voice cracking from the pressure of it all. The war weighed heavily on her shoulders. "I thought we'd make it together, see everything brighter on the other side but he...he..."

 

          Delphine was looking highly alarmed. "Has Felix...died?"

 

          Cosima shook her head. "Worse."

 

          "...Worse than dead?"

 

          "He betrayed me," Cosima emphasized, tears stinging at her eyes, "He's with _Alison."_ And with that she let out a sob and collapsed into Delphine's lap, who was looking more and more confused as time went on. She'd thought the DYAD party had been weird enough but this was on another level.

 

          Delphine patted Cosima sympathetically on the back. "Well we don't have to play anymore if you don't want-"

 

          "THIS ISN'T A GAME, DELPHINE," Cosima suddenly snapped, raising herself up so she was inches away from the blonde's face. She was looking fairly manic, all things considered. "THIS IS WAR. Do you understand? Kira and Helena, they look cute but they're not joking around. I had to dig a trench. _A trench."_

 

          The two stared deeply into each other's eyes. Neither party was blinking.

 

          "You're going to have to cut off one of my dreadlocks," Cosima suddenly said.

 

          "I don't-"

 

          "We'll make a slingshot out of it. I have one of the snowman's arms as well. We'll use that with it."

 

          "Cosima this is all very... _involved-"_

 

          "Yeah well you know what," Cosima said, choosing one of her dreadlocks carefully, "We're fighting on three fronts and we might be dead by sundown if we don't up our game. Do you want to die, Delphine?"

 

          "Non!" Delphine replied, starting to get rather swept up in her girlfriends hysteria.

 

          "Then we have to sacrifice a dreadlock," And with that said, Cosima offered the blonde a small penknife to do the honours.

 

          With shaking hands and a small sob, and suddenly feeling as though she were in a _true_ warzone, Delphine set to work.

 

* * *

          "Duncan what the hell are you doin'?"

 

          "This is very important," Rachel replied matter-of-factly as she gazed into her compact mirror. Round and round went the red lipstick.

 

          Sarah was watching proceedings with unrestrained disgust. "You already have like five layers on there."

 

          "You can't rush perfection, Sarah. Not that you would know anything about that."

 

          The brunette gave a long, exasperated groan and a roll of the eyes. "So you ain't helpin' me with our wall then?" She patted the small wall of snow they were crouched behind. Well, Sarah was crouched. Rachel was refusing to hunker down despite imminent hostilities.

 

          "I shan't dig about in the snow like some Russian peasant, Sarah," was the proclone's response. She admired her reflection for a moment or two longer and then slipped the mirror and lipstick into her clutch bag. She gazed around the barren battlefield disinterestedly. "The hostilities appear to have died down somewhat."

 

          "Yeah, don't believe that shite for a second," Sarah replied, peering over her snow wall suspiciously, "I haven't seen Helena and Kira since you _hit me_ with your bloody car door-"

 

          "Since you _ran into_ my car door-"

 

          "They must be workin' on somethin'," Sarah continued loudly over Rachel's correction, "Some kind of attack plan. You're 'gonna get hit if you carry on standin' there like you've got a stick up your arse-"

 

          "I could find cover if I required it." Rachel interrupted smoothly.

 

          "Oh yeah? Where?"

 

          "The snowman."

 

          "The snowman?"

 

          "Yes."

 

          "You're 'gonna run across _open ground_ to stand behind _the snowman?"_

"I don't recall saying anything about running."

 

          Sarah glowered up at Rachel.

 

          Rachel refused to acknowledge Sarah's existence.

 

          "Well that's the most bloody stupid thing I've ever heard-" Sarah began.

 

          Unfortunately, the conversation was cut to an abrupt halt when a snowball smashed straight into Sarah's face with alarming precision and force.

 

          "PPHHHFFTHTPHPPTHPP!!!!" was Sarah's bewildered reaction as she ducked down behind the snow wall again, desperately wiping snow out of her eyes.

 

          Beside her, the upright figure of Rachel Duncan was in mortal danger. This Rachel knew instinctively and immediately when she spotted Cosima leaning over the side her trench with a slingshot in hand.

 

          "MORE AMMO, CORMIER, NOW! WE'VE GOT THEM PINNED!"

         

          Rachel Duncan was paralysed, frozen to the spot. Time seemed to go in slow motion as Delphine helped Cosima load another snowball into her slingshot.

 

          A thousand thoughts whirled through the proclone's mind. Although she would never admit it to Sarah, trying to gain cover behind the snowman was a suicide mission - especially now that Cosima had a slingshot in her arsenal. She'd never make it in time, even if she upped her speed to that of a slight jog. There was no guaranteeing her balance on the way there either. _Heels weren't made for frontline assaults,_ Rachel thought sullenly, _they were made for crushing the skulls of enemies in minimally furnished rooms._

What to do then? She could crouch behind the snow wall but that would be _insufferable_ because Sarah was _insufferable_ and Sarah had built the snow wall and so by using the snow wall Rachel would be admitting that she needed Sarah's help which she _didn't_. Perhaps she would have to change allegiances. Yes, that could work. Open negotiations with the occupants of the trench and-

 

          And then Rachel was hit.

 

          She was reeling around, mouth agape in a wide O as she let out a scream of pure and unbridled shock. There was snow in her face, specifically in her left eye. She was twisting, falling, flinging out a hand to try and get some support from the snow wall. But it betrayed her, just like everything did in her life, and it crumbled beneath her grip and began to fall towards her.

 

          Was this how it was all to end? Had fate really dealt her such a crushing blow?

 

          _Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice,_

 

          _If only Robert Frost were here now,_ Rachel thought bitterly as she came crashing to the ground, _he would have his answer._

 

* * *

          Rachel Duncan had blacked out for approximately two seconds. Upon regaining the consciousness she had ever so briefly lost, she found herself and her most hated clone squashed behind the only remaining portion of the snow wall.

 

          Sarah Manning was glowering down at her. There was a rather generous amount of snow coating the both of them.

 

          "You just tore down half my bloody wall you big dork," were Sarah's comforting words to the wounded proclone.

 

          This did not surprise Rachel because Sarah had always had the manners of someone who'd lived in a gutter for the greater part of their life. The blonde chose to ignore her clone's rudeness in favour of establishing what exactly had happened.

 

          "Is it serious?" Rachel asked.

 

          "You what?"

 

          "My wounds."

 

          A slight pause. A grin tugging at the corners of Sarah's lips.

 

          "Duncan, you got hit by a snowball."

 

          "Will I live?"

 

          "Shittin' hell," Sarah said in disbelief, shaking her head. There was no denying the amused grin on her face now as she rummaged in her pockets for her mobile. "You'll be fine, especially now I'm callin' in the big guns."

 

          "...Who?"

 

          Sarah's grin widened as she pressed her mobile against her ear. "You know who. The only one who can stop this shitfest in its tracks." She glanced up briefly to spot Alison stomping out of the house in what looked like full body armour and a baseball bat in hand. "Oh _shite._ And he better get here soon, Alison's geared up for a bloody war-"

 

          "He?" Rachel echoed, the word tasting bitter on her tongue, "You don't mean-"

 

* * *

          Tony was rocketing through the streets, gas pedal pressed firmly to the floor.

 

          "I'm almost there Sarah, no worries," He was saying into his phone, voice raised to be heard over the roaring of the engine, "Yeah, yeah I told you already, I've got her strapped onto the back of the truck. She's a goddamn beauty, the others won't know what's hit 'em."

 

          A slightly hair-raising moment as Tony veered violently out of the way of incoming traffic.

 

          "I'll be there in two minutes. Is that screaming? The hell's going on over there? She's got a what? A baseball bat? Shit, man," Tony pressed even harder on the gas pedal, the engine of the truck letting out a horrible screeching noise from the pressure, "Stay in cover. I'm on my way."

 

* * *

          Alison Hendrix was terrifying. This was something that her clones seemed to forget on a regular basis, only to find her talking nonchalantly about the time she accidentally-on-purpose let someone die or she smashed Donnie over the head with a golf club or any number of horrifying incidents.

 

          However, today was one of those days where Alison reminded everyone that she was just as much a force to be reckoned with as the rest of them. Perhaps even more so when pushed to the very brink of her patience.

 

          "LAUNCH!" Alison roared.

 

          Felix flung open the door to the house which he was seeking cover behind, threw a snowball in Alison's direction and then slammed the door shut again.

 

          Alison swung the baseball bat with excessive force for someone of her tiny stature and sent the snowball hurtling painfully into Delphine's face, which was bobbing above the trench as she tried to reload Cosima's slingshot for a sixth time.

 

          Delphine let out a shriek and sunk back into the gloomy depths of the trench.

 

          "DELPHINE! CRAP!" Cosima's hands were shaking as she started loading the slingshot herself. Fighting Helena and Kira on their own had been tough, but adding Alison into the mix was just-

 

        _ **THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!** _ Cosima glanced up to see three snowballs slam into Alison's side. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on which team you were on, Alison was wearing the body armour she used when she went paint balling with Sarah Stubbs and the snowballs made no impact on her whatsoever. She turned to face the direction they'd come from.

 

          "Helena," Alison hissed.

 

          "Fringe clone," Helena hissed back.

 

          "Auntie Alison," Kira greeted cheerfully. She was sitting atop Helena's shoulders.

 

          "Kira," Alison said, a warm smile emerging on her face.

 

          "Angel," Helena added, raising a hand up to Kira, "Another snowball, please."

 

          "Oh yeah!" Kira placed a snowball lovingly into Helena's hand. "We're going to win, aren't we Auntie Helena?"

 

          "Yes," Helena said grimly as she faced her greatest adversary yet, _"We will end them all."_

 

          Kira let out a gleeful shriek as Helena charged forwards, flinging the snowball hard in Alison's direction. It crashed into her chest and crumbled into nothing.

 

          "LAUNCH!" Alison bellowed and, with a hefty swing of her bat, slammed another snowball into the fray.

 

          Within moments the front garden had become a whirlwind of snowballs and screaming. Alison was sending snowball after snowball Helena's way, but Helena was dodging out of harm's way with surprising ease given the fact she had a small child on her shoulders. In retaliation, Helena and Kira were proving themselves to be an utterly ruthless team. Kira would pass down the snowballs - and God knew where she was getting so many from in so little time - and Helena's arms would become a blur as they swung the snowballs into Alison's direction.

 

          No wonder Cosima was forced to build a trench, Alison thought as she screamed for another "LAUNCH!", if it wasn't for her paintball body armour she'd have been wiped out _in seconds_.

 

          **THUMP!**

 

          Something hit the side of Helena's head. She glanced briefly to the right to spot Cosima ducking back into the cover of the trench.

 

          _Sneaky, sneaky, dreadlocks._ She'd have to be taken out first and then Helena could utilize the cover of the trench to tire out Alison and then _take her down-_

 

          The sudden screech of tires. Everyone stopped and turned to face the road as a highly battered looking truck came to a dramatic halt. Even Cosima and Delphine were peering suspiciously over their trench to see what new player had dared to enter the fray.

 

          "Alright, alright," Tony announced as he hopped out of the driver's seat and onto the back of the truck where a truly colossal machine was residing. He gave the side of it an affectionate pat and then gazed down at the mess before him. There were half built snow mounds, broken down snow walls, places of impact where people had been hit and fallen, there was even a...a...was that a-

 

          "Trench?" Tony said, more of a statement as a question as he gestured towards Cosima and Delphine.

 

          "Yeah, I built it with my bare hands. Cool right?" Cosima answered, feeling a not-so-small swell of pride in her chest.

 

          "And me!" Felix interjected, head peering around the half opened front door.

 

          "Go back inside, traitor!" Cosima snapped back, sending a snowball whizzing in Felix's direction. He let out a small shriek of terror and slammed the door closed once more.

 

          A slight silence befell the front garden. Tony popped a piece of gum in his mouth and began chewing as he gazed at the trench in appreciation. "Damn. That's some hard work, there, you must've gone like _full Rambo-"_

 

          "LAUNCH!"

 

          A snowball suddenly slammed into the side of Tony's truck. "DUDE - WHAT?"

 

          "Get that unsightly vehicle _OFF OF MY PROPERTY!"_ Alison roared, readying her bat, "LAUNCH!"

 

          Another snowball rocketed past. Tony scowled. _Nobody_ touched his truck and _nobody_ called it _unsightly_ and got away with it. He smashed a button on the side of the machine and it whirred into life.

 

          "When you all complain about this later," Tony bellowed above the noise of the machine, "I just want you all to know, _you brought it on yourselves."_

 

          And with that said, Tony gave the machine a hard kick and with a strange hiccuping-burp noise, it suddenly blasted out a small avalanche of snow onto its unlucky victims below.

 

* * *

          "A snow cannon?" Cosima breathed in wonder, "Dude, that's like, awesome. Where'd you get it?"

 

          "Can't tell you that, I'm afraid chiquita. Trade secrets."

 

          "But they're supposed to be used on ski slopes. Surely it's illegal to have one mounted onto the back of your truck?" Delphine questioned, brows furrowed.

 

          "Sure is," Tony answered with a grin, "And it sure is awesome." He lifted a hand to automatically accept the high five Cosima was sending his way.

 

          It had been three hours since the snow war had come to a premature end thanks to Tony's snow cannon. The front garden was completely swamped in snow and everybody had resignedly slumped back into the house to change clothes, warm up and try to engage in some festive spirit rather than murderous impulses.

 

          Whilst practically everyone had managed to return from the hostilities unscathed, it seemed Rachel's left eye was a little worse for wear. In fact, much to her great displeasure, she had been whisked off to A&E by a very snappy and impatient Alison Hendrix and returned with an eye patch. She was now sulking in an armchair, gazing resentfully out of the window beside her, and planning a thousand ways in which to seek revenge on Cosima, who had not been all that sorry if truth be told.

 

          "It's just a precaution, I'm sure your eye will be A-OK," The dreadlocked clone had said, giving a thumbs up with one hand and offering Rachel a cup of hot chocolate with the other. Rachel had rejected the pity beverage and it was now sat cold on the end table beside her.

 

           To make matters worse, Tony had made himself completely at home. He was sat at the kitchen table, leaning back in his chair and laughing and making jokes with Cosima and Delphine as if he'd never just illegally slammed a mountain of snow on top of them at all. And there was Alison, stood on a stepladder and trying to hang up some last minute decorations.

 

          How festive. How awful. A truly insufferable day. And tomorrow was bound to be worse because tomorrow was actually-

 

          "CHRISTMAS!" Sarah was yelling, giddy with excitement as she wrapped some tinsel around Kira's shoulders, "What've you got me, monkey? Is it this one?" She picked up a small wrapped parcel and held it to her ear, shaking it slightly.

 

          "Mummy, no! It's not that one - you're not supposed to look for it!" Kira giggled, tugging on Sarah's arm.

 

          "No?...But I really think it might be...this one!" Sarah darted to wrapped box and started tapping on it gently. "Maybe it's a...pony? Did you get me a pony?"

 

          Kira was giggling _again._ Rachel felt nauseous. She gave one of her characteristic double blinks at the horrifyingly sweet scenario playing out before her and then eased herself out of her chair. She would stand in front of the window in her room. Stare out of it and contemplate her wounded eye and all the terrible ways she would make Cosima pay for it. That would make her feel better.

 

          On her way down the corridor to her room, Rachel found Helena's door open. She briefly glanced inside to spot Helena sat at her desk, a mountain of cards before her. She was scribbling inside one frantically, murmuring the contents to herself.

 

          "Dear Sestra....no...no, Dearest Sestra, I love you, no....Merry Christmas to my Twin Sestra...may you have....jell-o and guns...to kill your enemies..." A frown. She scratched the last bit out, "...Lots of jell-o....and I love you..."

 

          Rachel continued on her way. This was an interesting development. She supposed Christmas _was_ the time of year where people generally gave each other cards. She hadn't been planning to but...

 

          An idea formed in a brilliant and twisted mind.

 

          Yes. They'd get cards. They'd _all_ get cards.

 

           Rachel would have laughed triumphantly to herself had she not been so adverse to such open displays of pleasure. Instead, she simply let herself indulge in her most victorious nostril flare to date.


	11. Countdown to Christmas Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the clones try and pull themselves together for LIKE FIVE MINUTES FOR GOD'S SAKE IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY PLEASE THINK OF KIRA but even this becomes too much to ask when a certain present comes under great scrutiny and chickens threaten to separate Sarah from her daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always - comments literally giVE ME LIFE SO PLEASE SMASH SOME KEYS WITH YOUR NIMBLE TWIGS AFTER YOU'RE DONE READING THANK YOU BLESS US EACH AND EVERY ONE

         

* * *

 

 

**NINE (PART THREE).**

**Countdown to Christmas Dinner**

* * *

 

 

           "Sestra," the sound was hushed and slightly muffled.

 

          "We're sleepin' Helena," was the reply, exhausted and exasperated.

 

          "No, sestra."

 

          "Yeah, sister."

 

          "No, must wake up now for the big day," Helena persisted, peering over the edge of the bed and into Sarah's bleary eyes, "Angel, too. We must welcome the baby into the world."

 

          Sarah glanced to the alarm clock on her bedside table and let out a groan. "It's four in the mornin', Helena-"

 

          "Yes, we are four hours too late already," Helena agreed firmly, gazing at the alarm clock with wide eyes. This was rather unfortunate as it meant the light from the clock lit up her face in the most alarming shade of red possible and inspired a deep and primeval sense of impending doom in the pit of Sarah's stomach.

 

          "Look Helena," the brunette began carefully, "I know today's a...big day for you 'n all but we were up until midnight watchin' Frozen and-"

 

          "Let it go."

 

          "...What?"

 

          "Let it go."

 

          Sarah eyed her twin confusedly. "What...what're we doin' here - ?"

 

          "I can't hold back my prayers anymore. Come, leave your room and slam the door."

 

          "Are...are you quotin' song lyrics at me-"

 

          "Auntie Helena!" A voice interrupted. The tone was decidedly too chirpy and cheerful for four in the morning and Sarah could only heave another groan and sink back into the comforting depths of the duvet as Kira clambered over her.

 

          "Auntie Helena, it _is_ you!" Kira whispered in wonder, patting the blonde's face affectionately.

 

          "Yes," Helena replied solemnly, and with _great reverence_ as she inched closer to her niece, "I am here."

 

          "Is it time to open our presents?" Kira asked excitedly, turning her attention to her mother who simply gave another groan and a vague wave of a hand.

 

          "You can go and fetch two, yeah monkey? And then more sleep after that."

 

          This seemed like a fair deal to Kira, who had always been a friendly kind of spirit, so she gave a small fist pump and "Yes!" before hopping off the bed and offering a hand to Helena. "Come and help me choose, Auntie Helena."

 

          Such an important task was not accepted lightly by Helena, who slowly rose to her feet and stared down at Kira with an immense sense of responsibility and pride. "I will keep you safe," she promised, in a very grave and serious tone, "and I will find you mince pies."

 

* * *

 

          Helena was eating all of the mince pies.

 

          Kira was sat cross legged beside her, focusing intensely on the three presents before her. They were underneath the Christmas tree (which had an angel atop it, much to Alison's distress) and complete silence had descended around them, par the munching noises coming from Helena's direction.

 

          The dilemma Kira faced was causing her a great deal of strife. Two of the presents looked like they _might_ be the Elsa and Anna action toys she'd wanted so much but then the third present was _huge_ and _exciting_ and _could_ contain-

 

          "A body," Helena said thoughtfully between mouthfuls, "you could fit a body in there."

 

          Silence descended once again.

 

          Kira was plumbing the depths of her brain to try and figure out what the present could possibly be. Her mum had joked about it being a pony but surely it couldn't be...although it _was_ really big...and she _had_ always wanted a pony. How big were ponies? Suddenly Kira couldn't quite remember. Could you wrap a pony? Her heart was hammering loudly and she could hear it in her ears but it sounded like hoofbeats and _gosh_ , she really hoped it _was_ a pony after all and her dad could teach her to ride it and....could he ride ponies? Kira strongly felt like he was the kind of man who could. They could ride together and her mum could fit on it too. How many people could fit on one pony? At least three, Kira decided, and they would find a farm and-

 

          Suddenly, a mince pie.

 

          "It's the last one, for you Angel," Helena said, holding the mince pie mere millimetres away from Kira's eyes, just in case she didn't see it.

 

          Kira smiled and took the food offering gently out of the blonde's hands. "Thanks Auntie Helena. What happened to the others?"

 

          Helena shifted uncomfortably. Discreetly wiped away some crumbs that had fallen into her lap. "A...reindeer ate them."

 

          "No it didn't," Kira giggled, "I heard you eating them!"

 

          "No, no...that was the reindeer you heard-"

 

          "Auntie Helena - !"

 

          "Rudolph. He had a big, red nose-"

 

          "I never saw him!"

 

          "Sneaky, he was very sneaky...he had slippers to cover his hooves so you wouldn't hear him come in-"

 

          Hooves? Hooves. _Ponies._ Kira's mind whirred back into overdrive. _"Do you think that's a pony?"_ She blurted out, in a sort of breathless and terribly excited kind of way as she gestured to the big present.

 

          Helena eyed it for a moment, seriously thinking the prospect over. "No," she eventually reasoned, "too small for a pony."

 

          "Oh," Kira said, a little crestfallen.

 

          "But big enough for a body," Helena confirmed again, just in case Kira hadn't heard the first time.

 

* * *

 

          Tony didn't visit the clone club house too often for many reasons.

 

          Firstly, he was far too busy getting himself into all sorts of scrapes and car chases and generally life threatening situations. His wild lifestyle called for _complete freedom at all times_ and being tied down in some weird house share experiment went against all his principles on independence and free will. Well, that and Alison never let him go to McDonalds at 2AM to munch on ridiculously oversized burgers, as was his habit.

 

          On top of this, of course, was the delicate issue of Rachel Duncan. Watching him closely. Taking notes. Sniffing disapprovingly about the state of his clothes and manners. Trying to trick him into signing papers. Demanding his mobile number. Ordering him to join the house share experiment. Staring furiously at him from across the room when he said no. _Click-click-clicking_ about in her heels. "So, you're transgender," drawled in a voice devoid of any emotion. Taking out a folder. Flicking through his files. Underlining things in red. Making small tutting noises. Standing by a window. Staring sombrely out of it. Denying anything to do with members of DYAD trying to pull Tony into a van and take him for 'testing'. A long, discontented sigh. "You remind me of Sarah."

 

          _Sarah, Sarah, Sarah._ It was all she ever bloody talked about.

 

          ("Why don't you marry her if you love her so damn much?" Tony had snapped back once, having been likened to Sarah for the fiftieth time that day. He had been lounging on a sofa, eating a takeaway pizza and generally being highly unproductive. Rachel had been sat at the kitchen table, working on her laptop, making loud, passive-aggressive sighs and throwing in the odd, delicate complaint about Sarah and Tony's existences.    To Tony's suggestion, Rachel Duncan had given the sharpest, most highly disapproving inhale of breath humanly possible through her nostrils. Tony had grinned and reached for another slice.)

 

          However, despite the unwanted presence of Rachel Duncan, today was Christmas day and so Tony's inclusion into the house share was not only expected but _demanded_. He'd tried to escape the previous day after he'd unleashed the snow cannon on everyone, but Alison had cornered him in the kitchen and aggressively brandished a rolling pin in the general direction of his face (which he prized hugely due to its _excessively_ attractive nature).

 

          "Just where do you think you're going? _Hm?_ You think you can just leave us on Christmas Eve? We haven't seen you for three weeks. I was worried to _death_. Look at the state of your clothes. Have you even had a proper meal in all this time? No, _shush!"_ Here, she pressed the rolling pin firmly against Tony's lips as he attempted to defend himself. She leant in close, eyes narrow and dangerous. "You're staying for Christmas and you're going to have Christmas dinner with us. This is not up for discussion."

 

          Alison nodded her head slowly until Tony gave a small, uncertain nod of his own. The rolling pin was placed gently down on the kitchen counter. Alison was suddenly all smiles. "Wonderful. Now, help me escort Rachel to A&E would you? She's got ice in her eye."

 

          And that had been that.

 

* * *

 

          Now that it was Christmas Day, in all its glory and splendour, Tony found himself wedged in the middle of the sofa between a very sleepy looking Sarah and an entirely too excited Cosima.

 

          "Dude, DUDE, this is totally awesome!" Cosima was raving, flinging wrapping paper carelessly in Tony's face (which he was valiantly trying to shield from incoming danger). In her lap was a chopping board that looked like a computer motherboard. Cosima's eyes were filling with gleeful tears as she cradled it in her arms.

 

          "Yes, well," Alison began awkwardly, fiddling with her neck, "I thought maybe now you could help with the cooki-"

 

          "I'M GOING TO DO SO MUCH CRAZY SCIENCE ON THIS THING," Cosima bulldozed over Alison's carefully thought out suggestion. Seated on the arm of the sofa beside her, Delphine's eyes looked fairly watery as well.

 

          " _Très superbe,"_ she agreed emotionally, taking the chopping board gently out of Cosima's arms to cradle it in her own, She glanced down at Cosima and said, in a tone that suggested she was saying something of real poignancy, _"We're_ going to do so much crazy science on this thing."

 

          Cosima's lower lip trembled with joy. "Oh, _puppy-"_

"Enough of this bollocks," Sarah declared from the other end of the sofa, looking as though she might be sick, "where's Kira? I want to see her open the big present from me and Cal-"

 

          "She's retrieving the window woman," Helena answered from her seat on the floor by Sarah's legs. Her voice was slightly muffled from a large scarf she'd wrapped with aggressive enthusiasm around her neck a few minutes earlier (Sarah had given it to her as a present and Helena had almost _died with joy)._ "She said she wants her to be part of the family."

A collective noise of disagreement from the rest of the clones. Alison had wrinkled her nose in such evident distaste that she looked like she might be suffering from war flashbacks or simply a very severe aneurysm.

 

          "Part of the family?" Tony echoed in confusion, brows furrowed, "Didn't she try and trade you all into the DYAD institute the other day in exchange for some olives or somethin'?"

 

          Another murmur of annoyance from the clones.

"She _does_ like her olives," Delphine commented.

       "Pretentious bitch," Sarah remarked aggressively, just as Rachel made her appearance in the living area with Kira bouncing up and down by her side.

 

          "Are we talking about Alison?" Rachel enquired pleasantly, causing Alison's face to almost retract in on itself such was the offense taken.

_"What did you just say-"_

"Oh, monkey! I didn't see you there!" Sarah interrupted quickly, diving out of her seat (and almost trampling on Helena in the process) in order to protectively sweep her daughter into her arms. She didn't trust Rachel around Kira. Well, actually, she just didn't trust Rachel full stop. The big dork. The two clones glared heatedly at one another.

"Mummy...can you put me down?" Kira asked awkwardly, a little confused as to why her mum was shielding her from Rachel as though she had a bomb in hand, "I want to open the rest of my presents."

 

          "Sure thing, monkey," Sarah replied, although she _hadn't moved an inch_ and her tone was steely and she was still _furiously staring_ into the depths of Rachel's stupid, dead eyes. Well, just the one eye really. She was still wearing an eye patch, the _massive nerd-_

 

          "Mummy?" Kira's little voice cut in again.

 

          One last bout of glaring. Sarah turned on her heel and stomped over to the Christmas tree. Placed Kira down lovingly beside the pile of presents. Specifically in front of the massive present she and Cal had bought her.

 

          "Now, what one are you 'gonna open first?" She asked, knowing full well that Kira would be unable to resist the giant present before her.

 

          Kira looked at it longingly, but- "Shouldn't I wait until daddy gets here first?"

 

          Sarah stared down at her child. _Christ,_ she was nice. Where did she get those genes from? Of course she should wait for Cal to get here. But it was such a _good_ present and it was _already_ almost midday and -

 

          "Clearly she hasn't got her manners from you, Sarah," Rachel's velvety voice floated by, setting Sarah's teeth instantly on edge. The brunette turned to see that Rachel had even taken it upon herself to sit in her absent seat. Tony was looking massively uncomfortable with the situation and Helena was making quiet hissing noises by her legs.

 

          _Stupid bloody proclone-_

 

          "Not too late am I?" Cal's voice suddenly interrupted. He was peering round the front door with a huge grin on his face, a brown box full of organic vegetables and spreads in hand.

 

          "Just in time actually," Alison replied, launching herself out of her seat in one of the armchairs and grabbing the box out of his hands, "did you bring the carrots - oh they look lovely! And look at the parsnips!"

 

          "I think it's my best crop to date," Cal said proudly, puffing out his chest.

 

           It was at this moment that Sarah caught Cosima's gaze. The dreadlocked clone pulled her best 'I'm-totally-impressed-by-your-farmer-lumberjack-boyfriend' face and gave her a cheery A-OK sign. Sarah grinned like an idiot and waved Cal over.

 

          "Kira's just about to open the _best present ever!"_

 

          Kira gave a whoop of genuine excitement and set about _carefully_ unwrapping the present at a _slow_ and _steady_ pace-

 

          "Just tear into it, monkey," Sarah commented impatiently.

 

          Slowly, slowly went the wrapping paper. Kira was folding the torn off pieces and giving them carefully to Delphine (who looked increasingly confused as time went on but politely remained silent).

 

          "Kira, just rip it. It doesn't matter," Sarah said, sweat forming on her brow. She was feeling twitchy. She couldn't _wait_ to see the present revealed in all its glory and for Kira's little face to light up and-

 

          "We'll use them again," Kira was courteously explaining to Delphine, who looked a little frozen in fear and was staring at Kira with wide eyes, "it's recycling, it's good for the environment."

 

          Everyone's gaze slowly shifted to the mountain of torn up, trashed wrapping paper they'd left abandoned in the middle of the floor earlier. Everyone felt just that little bit shitter about themselves.

 

          Except for Cal. Cal loved recycling.

 

          "That's my girl!" He commented as he made his way over to stand beside Sarah and watch proceedings, "If we look after the environment-"

 

          "The environment will look after us!" Kira finished with far too much glee all things considered. She bounced over to wrap her arms tightly around her dad. "I'm _so_ glad you're here!"

 

          "Me too-"

 

          _"Kira you haven't finished unwrappin' your present,"_ Sarah interrupted, sounding as though she was under great strain. It was completely unheard of to start opening a present and then just leave it half done. Was this a new thing that kids did these days? What the hell was going on? She stared at Tony and Cosima for help. The two of them stared straight back at her, looking just as helpless as she did. Delphine was still holding the folded wrapping paper, lost in her own thoughts (no doubt revolved around how exactly she'd reached such a critically weird point in her life. She used to be a very sought after scientist. She used to have _prospects-)_

 

          "I will help Angel," Helena's authoritative voice suddenly boomed out. She was on her feet (which was always a worry) and plodding over to the present, pen-knife in hand. "I will cut the paper, Angel will fold."

 

          Sarah didn't particularly want Helena anywhere near Kira with a knife, but the system proved to be very efficient and within moments the present was unveiled to all. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. Kira would be so happy. She'd tell her she was a _brilliant mum_ and-

 

          "It is a coffin," Helena stated, though she sounded a little uncertain about her deduction, "big enough to fit a body-"

 

          "No - what - _no!"_ Sarah snapped, charging over to inspect the wooden structure, "It's a-"

 

          "Ammunition box," Helena tried again.

 

          "No! It's-"

 

          _"Une petitie maison,"_ Delphine whispered in quiet wonder.

 

         _"For Christ's sake,_ no - it's-"

 

           "Some kind of...rustic lab," Cosima said with an impressed nod of the head, "Rocking present, Sarah-"

 

          "IT'S A CHICKEN COOP!" Sarah suddenly roared, with a great deal of intensity given the current situation wasn't, in fact, a war zone, "SO KIRA CAN FEED SOME BLOODY CHICKENS WHEN SHE BLOODY VISITS!

 

          The kind of silence that one might only expect to meet at the end of the universe and/or time itself descended. Sarah was breathing very heavily and looked as though she was ready to fight anyone who dared blaspheme about her daughter's chicken coop again. Tony was glancing from Sarah to Helena to Cosima to Rachel to Delphine and back again. He even turned his head to glance at Alison's reaction. Did this sort of outburst happen a lot? _Man,_ he should visit more often-

 

          "Thanks mummy," Kira's voice piped up, sounding as calm and kind as usual, and as though she hadn't just developed yet another deeply troubling memory that would undoubtedly need some form of psychotherapy or counselling later in life to rectify, "it's amazing. Are we going to move some of dad's chickens here?"

 

          "That's...the plan," Cal said, a little uneasily after witnessing such a violent fit of anger from the mother of his one and only child, "You and me are going to drive over after dinner and choose which ones you want."

 

          _"Can we go now?!"_ Kira asked, vibrating with excitement.

 

          "Well I sort of...just got here-" Cal trailed off. Kira's eyes were huge and wide and pleading and her hands were all scrunched up into tiny fists of _sheer exhiliration and-_

 

          Helena was making clucking noises. She was staring very intensely at Cal while doing so and for each cluck she was making stabbing gestures with the pen-knife in his direction. Cal was suddenly feeling very uneasy about declining Kira's suggestion.

 

          "I mean...sure. Come on then," Cal hurriedly corrected himself, picking Kira up in one swift swoop, "We'll see you all in a bit - and I _promise_ we won't miss Alison's famous Christmas dinner, right Kira?"

 

          "Right!"

 

          "Oi! You're not soddin' off without me!" Sarah declared, feeling well and truly replaced. It didn't help that it was sort of her fault they were scooting off to fetch the chickens anyway since she had, in fact, given her daughter a chicken coop that very day. "It's Christmas, I'm spendin' every second with Kira-"

 

          "Oh no you're not," Alison's voice cut in, low and dangerous, "you promised to help prepare the vegetables and I am _not_ having a repeat performance of the last roast dinner I cooked. Do you understand?"

 

          "But Kira-"

 

          "I'm not seeing my kids until _dinner_ this evening, Sarah. I've sacrificed _everything_ to cook this turkey for you all and the least you can do is peel the... _fudging carrots!_ Do. You. _Understand?"_ Alison was reaching for the rolling pin again, much to the distress of Tony who had sunk just that little bit lower into the sofa to stay out of view and danger.

 

          It was at this pivotal moment during Christmas Day that Rachel Duncan decided to open her mouth. This was never a pleasant occurrence because it usually entailed scathing remarks, highly offensive personal comments, thinly veiled insults and the sense of one's dignity having just been brutally crushed under one of her high heels. This moment, as it happened, was no different.

 

          "I don't see what all the fuss is about, Sarah," The blonde drawled, idly inspecting her manicured fingernails, "you already missed an entire year of her life while you crawled about in the gutters, what difference does an hour or two today make?"

 

          And it was at this moment during Christmas Day that Sarah let out a roar of pure, unbridled fury and launched herself at the proclone with both hands outstretched ready to throttle her.

 

          And it was at this moment during Christmas Day that Cal hurriedly swept Kira out of the house before she could add any new traumatic memories to her rapidly growing collection.


	12. Christmas Cards Ft. Pure Carnage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rachel dishes out arguably the most un-festive set of Christmas cards on human record, Kira gets attacked by a ruthless chicken, and Aldous Leekie compiles some of the most disheartening Project LEDA reports to date

* * *

 

**NINE (THE FINALE).**

**CHRISTMAS CARDS FT. PURE CARNAGE**

* * *

 

 

Among many of the distressing events of this fine Christmas day, having a close encounter with her own mortality was not something Kira had hoped to add to the list. She was only eight, after all, and the thought she was going to snuff it before watching Frozen again later that evening was a bit rich.

 

And yet here she was with her own imminent death lunging at her full-pelt, somewhat more feathered than she’d thought her doom might be but still, as Auntie Helena had once told her whilst she’d demonstrated how to _correctly_ polish the barrel of a sniper rifle, “Death is never how people expect, like my sestra’s in Europe, the ones I popped, never thought I was coming, and then there I was and I was them and there was a hole in our head, a big shock for one of us.”

 

In a similar fashion Kira had to admit to herself - in what was sure to be her closing seconds -that she was rather surprised her death had come to her in the form of a cold-blooded chicken.

 

“KIIIIIIIRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Cal’s voice boomed across the yard. He’d turned his back for one second – _one second_ – only to find his sole daughter was about to be mercilessly attacked by a chicken gone rogue. What _was_ it exactly about Kira that meant _all possible danger in the world_ gravitated _immediately_ and with _great speed and determination_ towards her precise location whenever his or Sarah’s back was turned?

 

Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe some of her DNA got borked along with her terribly confused family tree and now she had some kind of mutant superpower – like the X-men, only she was completely useless because her one great power was to attract danger and doom with all the force of a collapsed neutron star. Even if that was the case, and his daughter turned out to be a terrible and immediately rejected member of the X-men Academy, Cal loved her deeply and would be damned if he was going to let some jumped up raggedy chicken try and take her down.

 

With a level of speed that Alison would’ve been proud of had she been protecting her own children from harm, Cal charged into the fray.

 

* * *

 

 

Rachel Duncan’s Christmas cards had not been received well.

 

This pleased Rachel for two main reasons. First and foremost because it had caused Sarah to try and lunge in her direction and kill her for what must have been the tenth time that day, only Rachel had deftly side-stepped to nonchalantly pick up her coffee from the kitchen table and Sarah had gone face-smashing into the floor instead. _Millimetres_ she must have missed Rachel by. She must have grazed, must have _felt,_ the expensive material of Rachel’s white business suit just before she crashed into the hard wooden floor beneath the blonde. This notion brought Rachel a certain level of pleasure that was, by all accounts, disproportionately excessive and fanatical in nature. Not that Sarah would ever know this because Sarah was a low-life gutter rat who had momentarily knocked herself out on impact with the floor and required Cosima and Delphine to coax her back to consciousness (Helena was thankfully stuck in a choke-hold shared by Felix and Tony, who were having to use every single muscle they had and more to keep her from straight out murdering the blonde clone).

 

Secondly, Rachel’s Christmas cards had delivered a particular sense of impending disaster and destruction that could only be rivalled by Helena’s sheer existence. This had even prompted Alison to comment that “This Christmas is…fudging well ruined!” which had lifted Rachel Duncan’s already euphoric spirits to new heights (she had displayed this emotion through a subtle flair of the nostrils, which she hoped nobody had seen – after all she might not have enjoyed sitting through Kira’s third viewing of Frozen in as many days, but the lyric of ‘conceal, don’t feel’ seemed to Rachel to have a certain ring of truth about it).

 

How had Rachel Duncan’s Christmas cards caused so much havoc? Simply put, because-

 

“YOU’VE BOOKED US ALL IN FOR SODDIN’ TESTIN’ ON CHRISTMAS DAY?” Sarah demanded, batting at Cosima who was valiantly trying to mop up her bloody nose with a handful of tissues. The brunette was now very much conscious and _full of rage and murder,_ but fortunately for Rachel’s lifespan she was suffering from concussion and required all her concentration just to remain sat upright on the floor. She was however swaying a bit, much to her annoyance and Rachel’s _great pleasure._

 

“I believe the card states you’re all booked in for a ‘holistic health experience in unrivalled technological facilities’ including ‘an intensive infusion of clinically effective and innovative treatments to truly indulge in’,” Rachel replied smoothly, raising her coffee to her lips to take a victorious sip.

 

“Have you no _heart?”_ Delphine implored, getting to her feet to face the blonde clone. She was immediately aware of every set of eyes in the room focusing on her in complete incredulity (including the one functional eye Rachel Duncan still had). “Well,” Delphine continued hastily, trying to rectify what was quite possibly the greatest understatement of the century, “have you no _shame?”_

 

“Have you no other clothes?” Felix’s voice piped up through grit teeth (helping to restrain Helena was no small feat), “Who wears a _white business suit_ on Christmas day?”

 

Murmurs of agreement all round (a soft and thoughtful, “It’s all over if you get a gravy stain,” from Alison’s particular direction).

 

Rachel Duncan had never experienced such a personally offensive remark in all her life, but with a great amount of willpower and restraint she opted to focus on the far more important topic at hand: Her Victory™.

 

“I assure you all it’s routine procedure. Since you’re all gathered here today in one place, it simply made logical sense to book the testing for this date.”

 

_“You bitch-”_ Sarah began, with a great amount of urgency and hatred.

 

Unfortunately for everyone, bar Rachel Duncan, it was at this precise moment that the front door came blasting off its hinges and smoke grenades were wantonly catapulted into the house (one tragically hit Sarah directly on the head, causing her to immediately black out for the second time that Christmas day).

 

* * *

 

A chicken had just smashed Cal forcefully in the face with a ruffled wing and a certain level of arrogance that he quite frankly found hard to accept.

 

“DADDY, YOUR FLANK!”

 

Despite the fact Kira was of the age where she should be enjoying her childhood and playing with her Frozen action figures, not learning and using military terminology on a day-to-day basis, Cal had to admit she had a point. A chicken was most definitely and aggressively headed his way from his left flank.

 

Now Cal wasn’t a coward by any means. In fact, he liked to think he had bravery that could match Sarah’s when it came to Kira. However, all great men must fall in order to rise again…or near as damn it, Cal was sure the quote went something along those lines. Due to this reason, which was _intrinsic_ to the very fabric of the universe, Cal let out a high-pitched and hugely embarrassing scream of fright as the chicken crashed into him again.

 

There was a tussle. There were feathers. Some of Cal’s beautiful brown locks were sacrificed in the fight. At one perilous moment he thought he was a goner as a sharp beak whizzed a whisker away from his neck. Kira was stood to the side, watching proceedings with mouth slightly ajar and eyes full of wonder and awe.

 

When the dust finally settled, Cal was stood beaten and bruised but _victorious_ with a wriggling chicken held tightly in his hands.

 

“So,” Cal managed between winces, unsure of how exactly to proceed, “have you chosen the chicken you want to take back yet?”

 

“Yes,” Kira replied immediately, finger pointing to the devil chicken in Cal’s personal custody, “I want that one.”

 

Cal’s heart had never dropped so quickly in his whole life – including that one time he was just trying to #SAVETHEBEES but ended up accidentally doing a full Tony Stark and supplying high-tech drones to the government instead.

 

* * *

 

Project LEDA’s test day was not going as Aldous Leekie had hoped. He’d barely been able to contain his excitement all morning, having been thrown into visions of grandeur and scientific breakthrough by a sudden and highly professional text from Rachel Duncan:

 

**SlamDuncan//10:38AM**

CONCEPT: SURPRISE TEST 4 CLONE SUBJECTS 2DAY (NOT ME) UPDATE PLS.

 

With shaking hands and genuine joy in his heart, Aldous had hastily replied:

 

**FreakyLeekie//10:39AM**

Confirmed – Pickup Squad assembling. They will be briefed before being inbound on your location. ETA 16:00 hours.

 

**SlamDuncan//10:42AM**

R U SRS LEEKIE?

R U TELLING ME IT TAKES APPROX. 4 HRS TO BRIEF 10 PPL RE. A ROUTINE PICKUP?

STANDARDS R CLEARLY SLIPPING.

TIME 4 SOME STAFF CLEANSING PERHAPS.

BEGINNING WITH U?

 

Leekie had chosen to ignore Rachel’s scathing comments and the fact she’d clearly taken to obnoxiously texting in capital letters to try and assert her authority. Instead he’d opted to cherish the moment by literally and physically giving himself a pat on the back before alerting Marion Bowles to the impending Project LEDA review. Tragically, Marion had seemed more exasperated than excited. In fact, if Aldous was being entirely honest to himself, she’d given a groan of genuine suffering before burying her face elegantly in one hand and turning off the Skype chat with immediate effect.

 

Luckily Aldous had never been one to be swayed by such savage reactions, so he’d briskly turned his full attention to the arrival of the greatest Christmas present ever bestowed upon him, his pet project, his beautiful children, his beloved clones, _his_ Project LEDA.

 

* * *

 

“It’s so wonderful to have you here today, Sarah. I’d like to thank you for your cooperation-”

 

“DIDN’T HAVE A BLOODY CHOICE DID I, YOU NUTCASE,” Sarah roared furiously as she was dragged past Leekie in handcuffs, “IT’S CHRISTMAS DAY – I WANT TO BE WITH MY DAUGHTER – WHERE’S KIRA?! IF YOU’VE TOUCHED HER I SWEAR-”

 

_“I will sever all your heads,”_ Helena hissed as she followed behind her twin. In contrast to the other clones, Leekie couldn’t help but notice that Helena had been clasped in no less than _ten_ handcuffs and a pair of highly hefty looking leg irons for good measure.

 

“Completely unnecessary, I can assure all of you,” Aldous replied to Helena’s charitable offer, waving his hands dismissively, “The only subjects in for testing today are you _lovely_ ladies-”

 

“I am _not_ your lovely lady!” Alison snapped as she was pushed past, looking excessively flustered and indignant, “Where’s your superior? I _demand_ to speak to them about this…mix-up! Immediately! My kids are coming over for _Christmas dinner!”_

 

“This is no mix-up, Alison. You’ve all been generously booked in at short notice, courtesy of Rachel. She said it was her Christmas present to you all,” Aldous beamed broadly, as if the clones were all being ushered into a luxurious five-star hotel, “Even our very own Doctor Cormier will get to enjoy a range of scientifically significant treatments today-”

 

“Je ne l'ai pas signé pour ça!” Delphine cut in as she was shoved by, struggling aggressively against the grip of the two men pulling her along, “Je suis très près de devenir le brocoli mal! Ne me poussez pas!”

 

“I can’t speak French, Doctor Cormier, so I’m sure I have no idea what you’re-”

 

“Oui vous pouvez!” Was Delphine’s last display of outrage before her girlfriend came following behind, looking far more relaxed than the others all things considered. 

 

“Dude,” Cosima commented as she walked by, locking eyes with Aldous and shaking her head slowly, “Totally not cool. I’m ‘gonna do _so_ many kickflips over your desk on Monday, wreck all your shit, you have _no_ idea.” 

 

“Skateboarding is prohibited on the premises, Cosima, as you well know-”  _“_

 

_Yeah, so is illegal cloning!”_ Cosima threw back with a degree of frustration that Aldous Leekie simply couldn’t understand, due to being a completely obsessive and ardent Illegal Genetics Experiments Fan himself. 

 

“Ah! Tony, glad you could make it!” Aldous said, welcoming the latest clone with a fatherly smile, “We haven’t personally met before, I’m Aldous Lee-” 

 

_“_ _Damn,_ look at that shiny head,” Tony interrupted uncaringly, raising both brows in disbelief, “It’s like a cue ball or something. You put lotion on that bad boy or what?” 

 

By this point, Aldous didn’t have much dignity left. He did, however, have one ace left up his large, lab coat sleeves. An ace that would turn the House Share Trial experiment on its _head_ and deliver scientific results that Marion Bowles could only _dream_ of- 

 

“What is the _meaning_ of this?” An icy voice suddenly cut in, brazenly shattering Leekie’s train of thought, _“I_ was _not_ part of the deal, as you well know Aldous.” 

 

“Rachel! A pleasure…as always…” Aldous began nervously, giving an awkward cough as the blonde clone was ushered by. She was staring at him with unrestrained hatred and bitterness, but luckily Aldous was used to this trademark Rachel Duncan expression so remained mainly unperturbed. He was comfortable enough, at least, to try and explain that, “Since you are _technically_ a subject in this House Share Experiment, I’m afraid I have to follow protocol and-” 

 

“Yet you can’t follow protocol to get my patent removed?” Rachel interrupted, voice dripping with venom. 

 

“As we both know, Topside moves at its own pace-” 

 

“Don’t try to patronise me, Aldous. Marion put my complaint in the shredder again, didn’t she-” 

 

“I’m sure it’s being processed as we speak,” Aldous promised with a large smile and absolutely no evidence to back up his claim whatsoever. 

 

As Rachel Duncan was escorted down a series of bright white, well-lit, minimally decorated corridors, she could practically _feel_ the shredder in Marion Bowles’ office whirring into action.

 

* * *

 

The day had not gone quite as Aldous had hoped. The subjects of Project LEDA were, understandably, not in the most co-operative of moods. In fact, some were outright hostile (Sarah had been swearing consistently for three hours straight and Helena had managed to bite one guard’s ear off).

 

Truthfully, if Aldous were to gaze at the reports in front of him with a completely unbiased viewpoint, as Marion Bowles was currently doing, he would probably pack his own desk and see himself out of DYAD’s doors.

 

“Aldous, you’ve given me almost identical reports each time we’ve used precious resources to conduct a ‘surprise batch of testing’ on Project LEDA,” Marion was saying, glowering over Sarah Manning’s most recent report, “You do realise Sarah is our most important subject and the greatest achievement you have listed here is: ‘Can fire elastic bands over increasing distances and obstacles to hit Rachel Duncan in the face’?”

 

Aldous could feel his illegal cloning empire crumbling around him. “I can see your point Marion, as always, but we must bear in mind the long… _scope_ of the project and-”

 

“‘Helena has exactly five 1p coins in her hair,’” Marion continued reading, having shifted focus onto the next report, “‘We are not, truthfully, completely sure where these have come from or why. All we can say for sure is that they have been placed there carefully and that Helena polishes them from time to time.’”

 

Marion stared at Aldous.

 

Aldous stated at Marion.

 

“I am one more bad report away from pulling the plug on Project LEDA, Aldous,” Marion said, “I literally cannot believe the sheer insignificance of what I’m reading.”

 

“P-Perhaps, if given more time, we could really take in the…the huge amounts of data we’re collecting and-”

 

“May I remind you,” Marion cut in uncaringly, “that this House Share Experiment only received the green light in the vain hope it might keep you busy and quiet whilst I attended to other matters. Instead, I find myself swamped with reports that less than impress me, Aldous, and instead fill me with a quiet sense of dread and despair. I cannot _stress_ the importance of Project LEDA and I expect you to find a solution to this… _mediocrity_ immediately. Do you understand?”

 

Aldous gulped and nodded hurriedly.

 

“Good, I want results within….” Marion trailed off, eyes skimming back over Sarah’s report, “…‘recently spent _three hours_ physically fighting her way out of a _finger-trap’?!”_

 

Aldous groaned and sunk his head into his hands. It was well and truly time for the ace to come out of his sleeve.

 

* * *

 

The clones had been discharged within four hours and, quite frankly, not a lot had happened to any of them during their impromptu visit to DYAD. There had been the odd blood test, an ink blot picture thrust in their faces every now and then and maybe the occasional quiz to fill in. Overall, the entire event had passed without great incident (apart from Helena latching onto an ear) and it was the general consensus of all the clones that the whole affair was utterly under-whelming and a huge waste of precious Christmas time.

 

“Great evil plan, Rach, really came up trumps with that one,” Sarah snapped as they all trudged up the path to the front of the house, “Bet you had to pull in all your favours for that one, yeah?”

 

A furious sniff of disapproval was all Sarah received in reply.

 

“The turkey will be _ruined,”_ Alison lamented, priorities evidently quite different from Sarah’s, “and I’ve missed Christmas dinner with my kids and Donnie…I didn’t even get to see them open their _presents-”_

 

“Yeah, all thanks to Scrooge over here,” Sarah interjected helpfully, with an accompanying hiss from Helena.

 

“Hope you feel _real_ proud of yourself,” Cosima added, pushing past the proclone, “You’ve like, _totally_ borked Christmas for everyone.”

 

“Didn’t even get a sandwich from any of those jumped-up lab coats,” Tony was saying from beside Alison, “Not _one_ snack, not even a _mince pie,_ can you believe that? On _Christmas Day.”_

 

“Let’s just get inside,” Delphine muttered, glowering into the back of Rachel’s skull, “Christmas isn’t over yet.”

 

Disgruntled murmurs bordering-on-agreement-but-too-pissed-off-to-form-words all round.

 

Sarah opened the front door.

 

* * *

 

The loudest yell of _“SHITE”_ from Sarah yet. A pure shriek of shock from the very depths of Alison’s soul. Cosima’s mouth agape, glasses falling down the bridge of her nose, forgotten in the intensity of the moment. Delphine, entirely done by this point, cursing in French quietly under her breath. Rachel flaring her nostrils extravagantly as if challenging a new adversary. Tony, pushing past the bunch of them confusedly, asking what the hold up was, and then laying eyes on the beautiful image of himself… _herself,_ really, in all her fake-tanned, perfectly manicured, blonde-wavy-haired magnificence.

 

“Yo,” Tony said, grinning wildly and snapping his fingers, “We all just got _hotter.”_

 

* * *

 

Krystal Goderitch had single-handedly brought the Christmas Party Spirit to the Clone Club House Share.

 

One minute there had only been six clones, full of bitterness and hatred (mainly for Rachel Duncan’s existence), ready to just call it a day and go to bed. Then there had suddenly been seven clones, full of salvaged Christmas turkey and a renewed enthusiasm for festivities, all thanks to one new clone in a peach coloured, body-hugging dress.

 

“This is so, like, oh my God,” Krystal was saying energetically, wiping an emotional tear from an eye, “Like, I’ve never felt like I _belong_ before, you know, and then a freaky bald man turns up telling me I’m a clone and I'm some kind of 'ace up his sleeve', whatever that means, and I’m like, ok, what’s the worst that can happen, maybe it’s one of those reality TV shows, right? So he takes me to this giant building and I fill out loads of forms and-”

 

The clones were hanging onto every word Krystal said with great reverence and interest, even including Rachel to some degree, though she remained stood aloof by a floor-to-ceiling window nearby. In fact, such was the immediate and genuine love for this most recent and kind-hearted soul, that nobody seemed to greatly care about the fact there was a chicken running loose causing untold havoc and mayhem.

 

“CAN WE- CAN I- I NEED SOME HELP WITH THIS CHICKEN-” Cal could be heard yelling distantly in the background. Donnie and Felix were stood teetering on either end of the sofa, unsure of whether to risk moving to lower ground. Alison’s kids were, thankfully, by Kira’s side. And Kira had a plan.

 

Queen Elsa herself, the greatest action figure known to humankind, was thrown wantonly across the room and over the heads of the clones seated around the kitchen table.

 

_“Here Daddy, use this to protect your flank!”_  Kira’s voice piped up momentarily, before being lost once again in a flurry of feathers and aggressive clucking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY ALRIGHT. THERE I SAID IT. WHAT'S IT BEEN? A YEAR? TWO YEARS SINCE AN UPDATE? TIME MEANS NOTHING ANYMORE, I'M JUST STUCK IN A PERPETUAL BLUR OF MOTION. LET ME LIVE. I LOVE YOU. LOOK HOW LONG I MADE THIS CHAPTER FOR YOU ALL. JUST LOOK AT IT. WHY? BECAUSE JUST LIKE KRYSTAL GODERITCH, I'M A HUMBLE CINNAMON ROLL JUST TRYING TO MAKE MY WAY IN THE WORLD. FORGIVE ME. LOVE ME. I'LL TRY TO DO BETTER NEXT TIME. SOMEBODY SEND ME A DOG TO PAT.


	13. Let There Be Light (And Also Sheep)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the clones come face-to-face with their greatest challenge yet: a power outage and a fight with the paranormal.

Krystal Goderitch’s eyes were wide and intense. “The door’s, like, _totally_ shut and we are _definitely_ locked in here.”

 

This was absolutely the last thing Sarah Manning had ever wanted to hear in her life. This was because there was a power outage and she had stomped down to the basement with Krystal and, horribly enough, Rachel Duncan in tow in order to trip the switch and get the lights back. Remaining trapped in pitch black basement with the two other clones for _any_ length of time could only result in one thing: her complete loss of sanity.

 

“There’s ‘gotta be a way out,” she said frantically, charging over to the door and pulling Krystal unceremoniously out of the way. She fumbled with the door handle, legs weak, palms sweaty-

 

“Oh my God, have your arms turned to spaghetti? Move _over-”_ Krystal interrupted, pushing Sarah to the side, “Let _me_ handle this, I’ve been working on my biceps this month and I can literally _feel_ how much stronger they are-”

 

“It’s not about biceps you _doughnut,_ it’s about _wrist movement-”_ Sarah snapped, shoving Krystal hard in the side, only to be swiftly kicked in the shin. _“SHITE-”_

 

 _“Don’t_ start on me Sarah, _I’ve been in fist fights in Prada and survived-”_

 

“I once orchestrated the end of five of my subordinate’s careers,” came the unmistakable voice of Rachel Duncan, “all before I’d even cracked open my egg for breakfast.”

 

An awkward pause.

 

Sarah and Krystal turned in unison to squint through the inky blackness of the basement. Rachel Duncan was nowhere to be seen but the sound of a victorious inhale through her nostrils could be heard faintly in the distance, like a very far off train whistle.

 

“Ended their careers or murdered them?” Sarah demanded with a scowl on her face.

 

The triumphant inhale now sounded exponentially more offended. “They were dealt with accordingly, Sarah.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Sarah sneered, “bet you got some of your bloody Neoloution henchmen to crack open their heads like you did your egg-”

 

“At least I haven’t stabbed my own twin sister,” Rachel stated coolly, glancing idly over her fingernails. Unfortunately, due to current pitch black circumstances, Rachel Duncan couldn’t actually _see_ her fingernails – but she’d be _damned_ if that was going to stop her.

 

 _“That’s-”_ Sarah began awkwardly, pointing accusingly in what she hoped was Rachel’s direction, “…that was a…. _bloody misunderstandin’ alright?!”_

 

“How can you accidentally stab your own twin sister?” Krystal asked with a judgemental raising of one perfectly plucked eyebrow and a pursing of beautiful pink-glossed lips. She was never afraid to ask the hard-hitting questions. In fact, she’d always rather fancied herself to have a wildly successful career as an MTV journalist-

 

“You know what,” Sarah huffed angrily, turning to struggle with the door handle once more, “it’s none of your shittin’ business alright so _back off-”_

 

“Mm-hm, _classic_ case of denial,” Krystal commented.

 

“Remind me, Sarah, didn’t you shoot Helena as well?” Rachel added, in the benevolent and good-natured way that underpinned her whole personality so soundly, “I can’t say I blame you. I assume it was rather like trying to put an animal down-”

 

“You _shot_ your sister?”

 

“Shut it,” Sarah snapped, yanking at the door handle with a renewed sense of urgency and fury, “both of you just _shut it,_ alright. Helena’s had a really shite past and neither me or her deserve your judgement when you don’t know _jack-”_

 

“What kind of past led to her getting shot by her own twin?” Krystal asked, ever relentless in her pursuit of _The Truth_ _™_ _._

“Well there was a convent and…a nun that, y’know, locked her in cupboards-”

 

“That sounds like a _serious_ Hugo Potter situation,” Krystal remarked.

 

Sarah paused in her frantic wrestling of the door handle just long enough to impart a disbelieving stare in Krystal’s direction. Even Rachel had dedicated a brief second to a subtle, disdainful flaring of the nostrils.

 

“It’s _Harry_ ,” Sarah began, before immediately thinking better of it. _“Christ_ , Krystal, I can’t even do this right now-”

 

Thankfully, the clones always had Rachel to rely on when it came to salvaging deeply troubling topics from the midst of a conversation already in free-fall.

 

“Helena killed the nun by popping out her eyes,” Rachel stated pleasantly.

 

“Oh,” Krystal said.

 

“Shut up,” Sarah said, “there were Proletheans and…she was in a cage on a boat, we don’t even know the full story, alright, but like…seriously...shady…. _bollocks,”_ (here, Sarah tapped an index finger forcefully on the door, as if she was making a _highly important_ point), “all over Europe, and proper… _brainwashing shite_ is what I’m sayin’.”

 

Rachel regarded the cockroach somewhere vaguely to her left with a blank stare and a languid blink of the eye. She had never been less impressed in her life. “Thank you, Sarah. That cleared everything up with your usual eloquence.”

 

“You want to take this outside, Duncan?”

 

“That would be rather difficult with the door locked, Sarah.”

 

“Well – _fine_ – doesn’t make any difference to me, we can settle this in here, yeah?”

 

Rachel would have scoffed at this idea had she been the type of person to scoff. Instead she simply suppressed her natural human response, as was her custom, and indulged in a very minimal head tilt towards Sarah’s direction.

 

“That all rather depends on whether you can find me,” Rachel Duncan challenged.

 

“If I can find Kira every bloody time she bloody wanders off then I can bloody find you,” Sarah Manning accepted.

 

“Am I, like, interrupting something here?” Krystal Goderitch asked, but her question was swallowed up in the darkness as the sounds of two clones shuffling hastily around the basement echoed out around her.

 

* * *

 

“Ten silver bullets,” Helena said proudly, puffing out her chest, “stolen from Russian oligarch’s body after shotgun blew him in half.”

 

Silence descended around the kitchen table as this latest piece of _Unsettling News Live From Helena_ sunk in. Another rumble of thunder from overhead and the flickering candlelight helped add to Helena’s current overall ambience of slightly-setting-everyone’s-tits-on-edge.

 

“Pieces of stomach and intestine _everywhere-”_ Helena began again, hands gesturing around her as if she and the entire room were covered in the stuff.

 

 _“Oh goodness,”_ Alison interrupted, looking thoroughly nauseous and flustered, “I’m not sure this is suitable conversation for the dinner table, Helena-”

 

“Why not suitable?” Helena demanded, “Sestra-brother Tony asked if I could fight ghosts and here I am with silver bullets-”

 

“You can’t shoot a ghost though, even if the bullets are silver,” Tony said, nonchalantly leaning back in his chair, “So I don’t think that’s ‘gonna save us from the ghoulies, Goldilocks.”

 

Helena took immediate offense to this remark, with a certain swiftness even Rachel Duncan would be proud of.  “You think I cannot kill ghosts, sestra-brother?” She asked, voice low and threatening.

 

“No ma’am. You can’t go full Rambo on somethin’ that ain’t got a physical body.”

 

“Actually,” Cosima’s voice piped up from the other end of the table, “that’s a really interesting topic that’s covered in Ghostbusters-”

 

“Not this again, Cosima,” Delphine said exasperatedly beside her girlfriend, looking as though a very old and grievous war wound had re-opened to cause her immeasurable pain and suffering.

 

Cosima surveyed the curly blonde from over the brim of her latest science magazine. It was a look of severe disdain. “You have no taste in movies, you heathen.”

 

“I have very _exceptionnel_ taste in movies, thank you Cosima.”

 

“That’s objectively false when you refused to go and see Ghostbusters with me.” 

 

“Well it is so _silly_ – the CGI is… _painful,”_ Delphine stressed, as if under enormous pressure, “The science in the movie, _it makes no sense-”_  

 

“You know what else doesn’t make sense?” Cosima snapped, _“Not liking Ghostbusters-”_

 

 _What was that?!”_ Alison’s voice cut through proceedings. She was staring wide-eyed at one of the kitchen cupboards. 

 

“…What was what, sestra Alison?” Helena asked curiously, peering around in her seat to focus on the cupboard in question. “Did you see ghost?” 

 

“I…I don’t…” Alison seemed at a loss for words and could instead only nervously touch at her neck. “There was a…a light… _I’m not making this up Tony!”_  

 

Tony gave a hearty laugh at this, confident in both his safety and the un-ghostly nature of the house share they all lived in. Tragically this was all thrown swiftly into question when the kitchen cupboard emitted an ear-splitting, distorted **BOOM!** noise and abruptly glowed a dark red colour from deep within.

 

* * *

 

 

Rachel Duncan wouldn’t admit it to herself for the rest of her lifetime. She would push the fact deep down into her subconscious where it would torture itself for the next five to ten years before manifesting into an outburst of icy-aggression or sheer psychopathy. Maybe someone would get stabbed. Maybe it would be her own mother. But until such a day, Rachel Duncan was in denial and therefore Rachel Duncan was safe and untouchable. 

 

What was the fact causing Rachel such grave inner turmoil? 

 

FACT: Rachel Duncan was sweating. And it wasn’t just any sweat. It was a _panic sweat._  

 

Challenging Sarah to a game of cat-and-mouse had seemed clever at first, _thrilling_ almost in its audacity and daring. But the situation had quickly spiralled beyond Rachel’s control. She had severely underestimated the noise her heels made on the concrete floor and also how quick and determined Sarah Manning was when it came to one-upping her. 

 

They had been circling and shuffling around the basement for what felt like years now. Krystal had given up and set up camp on the two steps leading up to the door long ago, trying in vain to get some signal on her mobile. The obnoxiously large screen was the only source of light in the basement and occasionally, when Krystal gave an _“Ohmygod!”_ of frustration and flung her arm around in irritation, it briefly illuminated proceedings. 

 

There Sarah Manning would be in one corner. Crouched, quiet, resolute, offering a quick flip of the bird before darkness fell again. 

 

There Rachel Duncan would be in another corner. Stood rigid, hugging the wall, the vaguest hint of panic in her eyes, giving a quick lift of the chin before the gloom resumed. 

 

And then the game would continue. 

 

Except this wasn’t a game. Nothing was a game, not really. Everything was to be played for. The stakes were very real. _The cockroach had to be crushed._  

 

“You won’t catch me, Sarah,” Rachel Duncan said, almost desperately, “I’m Neolution bred.” 

 

“Shut up you big dork,” Sarah replied, sounding closer than ever. 

 

Were those footsteps to the left of her? Was that the sound of someone breathing to the right of her? Would an arm outstretch and a hand grab her from the front? Sarah could be anywhere. She was resourceful. She might even be on the ceiling. Rachel’s one useable eye darted around the darkness hopelessly. Perhaps everything was lost already. Maybe Sarah was right beside her, smirking, listening to her struggle in her heels, waiting for her moment to strike, _foul, loathsome, inferior-_  

 

 **BOOM!**  

 

The house shook, dust fell from the ceiling. The lights were flickering. Krystal screaming. The brief image of Sarah in the middle of the room brandishing an old tattered fishing net she’d found in a box. Rachel Duncan, eyes wide, body frozen. The lights went out. 

 

Then, _Click!_  

 

The door, having caused so much pain and agony by refusing to unlock, was now casually swinging open of its own accord.

 

* * *

 

 

“I will investigate,” Helena volunteered bravely, producing a gun from somewhere deep within her green parka and methodically loading it with the silver bullets. 

 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alison said hurriedly, attempting to prise the gun out of Helena’s excessively solid grip, “We don’t know what’s in there, Helena, it could be some crazed Neolution…testing program!” 

 

“All the more reason to _totally_ go and have a look,” Cosima suggested helpfully from behind the sofa in the living area where she, Delphine and Tony were heroically hiding. 

 

“Cosima – no!” Alison began. 

 

“Sestra Alison, yes,” Helena interrupted, pulling the gun easily out of Alison’s reach, “It is time to lay the ghost to rest so it can go up to heaven.” 

 

It was at this point that Helena took it upon herself to pat Alison’s cheek softly with her free hand, with the utmost affection and reverence. Alison, looking utterly uncomfortable, stared back at her bewilderedly. 

 

“Please excuse me,” Helena finished, giving Alison one last slightly-too-forceful cheek pat (Alison’s indignant _“Holy – fishsticks!”_ went unacknowledged). 

 

Then, Helena moved forwards to crouch before the possessed piece of furniture which currently looked like it was the new residency of the Northern Lights. 

 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Alison commented before throwing her hands up in defeat and hurrying over to join her companions behind the sofa. Four sets of eyes peered over the back of it and watched as Helena placed a hand on the cupboard handle. 

 

“This red light reminds me of jell-o,” were Helena’s famous last words before the cupboard was opened and an entire round of silver bullets were fired.

 

* * *

 

 

Seven clones and a French scientist stood around the kitchen table. The lights were back on, allowing them to take in the sight upon it: a mangled laptop riddled with exactly ten bullet holes. A slight haze of smoke still softly enveloped it and the ex-serial killer in a green parka stood beside it.

 

“I think it is over,” Helena said sombrely, placing her gun gently down on the table.

 

“You think?” Sarah replied, arms folded irritably across her chest. She’d been _so close,_ a few mere steps and seconds away from trapping Rachel Duncan in a fishing net. There could have been no purer joy in life, no greater victory, and instead – here she was listening to the rest of her clones talk about a bunch of hocus pocus.

 

“It was…possessed or something, Sarah, this is serious,” Alison was stressing emphatically, fiddling anxiously with the cross around her neck, “Maybe it was a new…scare tactic from Leekie.”

 

“What would he be tryin’ to scare us for?” Tony asked, brows furrowed, “If he wanted to do that he could just waltz on in here. Nothin’ scares me like that big, bald head of his-”

 

“The shine on it is quite alarming,” Rachel Duncan agreed.

 

“I think it’s bullshit,” Sarah said matter-of-factly, as if her opinion closed all debate on the matter, “This storm’s been sendin’ all our electrics mental, it was probably just glitchin’ or somethin’.”

 

“That’s…not how laptops work,” Cosima said, eyeing Sarah with a certain degree of shade.

 

“Yeah and what the bloody hell are you – a shittin’ scientist or somethin’?” Sarah demanded.

 

An awkward pause.

 

 _“Fuck,”_ Sarah said under her breath.

 

“I saw a sheep’s face,” Helena stated, gesturing to the deceased laptop, “It is dead and at peace now so we will have no more ghostlings.”

 

“A sheep’s face?” Krystal echoed, striking her Interview Pose once more, “What do you mean? Like an actual sheep?”

 

“Like a mask.”

 

“Ok. That is _definitely_ weird.”

 

Sarah was rubbing her forehead tiredly. Helena began making quiet _baa-ing_ noises, staring intensely at each clone in turn.

 

“I know who you mean,” Rachel Duncan suddenly declared, greatly enjoying the attention as her clones dramatically turned to face her. “I believe Veera Suominen has just tried to contact us.”

 

Silence. Exchanged blank stares. A few shrugs.

 

Rachel fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Another clone, from Finland. She’s joining the house-share.”

 

“…And this is how she chooses to introduce herself to us?” Alison questioned tetchily, “By trying to give us all heart attacks?”

 

“Yes, well,” Rachel replied, glancing over the broken laptop with severe distaste, “She hasn’t exactly agreed to participate in the project yet.”

 

* * *

 

Veera Suominen, otherwise known as M.K., had not entered the house-share happily. This was mainly because Aldous Leekie had organised her abduction with the authorised use of smoke grenades, fire hoses and, strangely, harpoons in order to flush her out of her hidey-hole. She’d been bundled unceremoniously into a van before being dragged out again and into a strange house which had a laptop full of bullet holes on the kitchen table.

 

None of the aforementioned events filled M.K. with hope.

 

Leekie had done little to settle her nerves by explaining the logistics of the house share experiment and how she was now under his custody and protection. In fact, M.K. had kicked him hard in the crotch and tried to leg it.

 

Unfortunately, Leekie’s henchmen had pulled her back to her seat by the table and proceedings had continued. There was lots of paperwork to be signed. “Formalities,” as Leekie had put it, still wincing.

 

Eventually he seemed to be satisfied with how the operation had run and, with a forced shake of the hand, he and his henchmen were on their way so M.K. could “get to know her sisters and brother.”

 

M.K. did not like her sisters or brother.

 

“Veera literally all of us have the exact same face so we already know what you look like,” Sarah Manning was saying, “Take it off.”

 

“Yeah ditch the mask, Dolly,” was Tony’s addition. He accepted a high-five from both Cosima and Delphine who seemed suitably impressed by his knowledge of sheep-cloning.

 

“I…I can’t…it’s not safe,” M.K. replied nervously, fidgeting in her seat, “If I take it off…people will know what I look like.”

 

An awkward pause.

 

Sarah narrowed her eyes confusedly. “…What are you not understandin’ here, Veera?”

 

“Please call me M.K.”

 

“I might if you take the stupid mask off.”

 

A deeply troubled sigh. M.K. raised a hand and dramatically removed the mask to reveal a face that was, in a completely unsurprising turn of events, precisely the same face as the rest of the clones.

 

“Just as I expected,” Helena said, in genuine seriousness, “Another clone.”

 

Alison gave a frustrated sigh. “Veera- I mean, M.K., while I’m very glad that you’re…here, would you mind explaining the laptop? It scared the complete ca-boodle out of us.”

 

“I’m sorry,” M.K. said, giving a sad sigh, “I didn’t mean to trouble anyone. I just wanted to get in contact with you all. I thought if I caught everyone’s attention with the distortion noise and red glow then we could speak together…it was going to be a very quick conversation, only five or ten seconds. I had it all planned.” Here, M.K. took a deep breath. “I was going to give Rachel a code which I know she would figure out could be coded into the Neolution mainframe which would have caused a remote database to download co-ordinates onto the laptop which Cosima and Delphine would have cracked. This would have sent a signal across the dark web to a temporary server which would have pinged a contact number across to all of your mobiles just before the server initiated a self-destruct sequence and…”

 

M.K. paused. Took in all the blank faces and Sarah’s particularly confused expression.

 

“…Never mind.”

 

“Couldn’t you have just like…knocked on the door or something?” Krystal asked, ever the voice of reason in these increasingly turbulent times.

 

Another awkward pause. The clones all stared pointedly at the latest addition to their family. Time drifted ever aimlessly onwards, ignorant of the complete stupidity which happened within its confines.

 

“……Yes, that does sound easier now you say it.” M.K. admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE RETURNED HENCEFORTH WITH WORDS TYPED BY MY VERY OWN NIMBLE TWIGS. This was a quicker update than last time though right guys? RIGHT GUYS? (Please love me). Also please leave a comment if you liked the chapter and also follow me on tumblr (duncan-doughnuts.tumblr.com) if you don't already so we can all play together during this terrible hiatus. Amen and holy fishsticks. Bless us all.


	14. Camping Trip (Act I: Sugar, Sugar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which clone club makes the drastically misguided step of going camping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: an eventful bus ride and a rocket skateboard.

The bus lurched violently to the side. Tony and Sarah gave loud whoops of excitement from their seat at the back. Alison turned around so quickly she almost gave herself whiplash as she demanded they quieten down – “The driver needs to concentrate!” – but her only response was the duo flipping the bird simultaneously. Tragically for Alison, she _was_ the bus driver, and they might as well be rocketing down the highway to hell for all the fun she was having. With a growl, Alison turned back to face the winding road ahead, knuckles white on the wheel.

 

“SESTRA, LISTEN,” Helena’s unmistakeable voice boomed out from a seat midway down the bus. She had popped into view very suddenly and was wearing one of the largest sets of headphones Sarah had ever seen in her life. “HONEYYY, SUGAR, SUGAR,” Helena began enthusiastically, eyes boring into Sarah’s soul, “YOU ARE MY CANDY GIRL, AND YOU GOT ME WANTING YOOOUUU-”

 

“Damn, Goldilocks has got pipes!” Tony remarked with a click of the fingers, “LOUDER FOR US AT THE BACK, HELENA!”

 

“Shut up you twat, don’t encourage her!” Sarah snapped, punching Tony aggressively in the shoulder.

 

But the damage was already done.

 

“I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE THE LOVLINESS OF LOVING YOU,” Helena continued with renewed vigour, beginning to bop about wildly in her seat, “SESTRA, IT’S OUR SONG, LISTEN-”

 

“You’re wearin’ headphones you big idiot, I can’t hear anythin’-” Sarah attempted.

 

“SUGAR, HONEY, HONEY,” Helena bellowed, bouncing to her feet and dancing (thrashing erratically) her way down the bus aisle, “YOU ARE MY CANDY GIRL-”

 

“Bloody bollocks,” Sarah said, trying desperately to sink into her seat and out of view, “I ain’t dancin’ Helena-”

 

Helena nodded vigorously, all tangled hair and tattered green parka and giant headphones.

 

Sarah backed as far into her seat as possible but unfortunately there’s very little room to hide on a moving bus. Tony was beginning to look a jot concerned. Helena’s dancing was very… bold. It involved a lot of limb swinging. She might accidentally catapult a fist into his face. Knock him unconscious. Leave him for dead.

 

Tony had made a terrible mistake.

 

“Fuck me, fan out – fan out!” He said hurriedly, scrambling on top of the seat in front of him as Helena’s whirlwind of limbs closed in. Unfortunately, this seat was occupied by Cosima Niehaus who was having precisely _none of his shit._

 

“Get wrecked Sawicki!” Cosima snapped, turning in her seat to wrestle with him as he tried to make his Great Escape, _“You wanted the back seat so much-”_

 

“I regret my decision,” Tony wheezed as Cosima’s hand pressed firmly against the side of his face, “Take me back!”

 

“You made your bed,” Delphine said from beside Cosima, slapping at the other side of Tony’s face, “Now lie in it!”

 

“SUGAR, SUGAR,” came the ominous boom from Helena as a wild fist made a beautiful arc in the air. Time seemed to go in slow motion as Cosima and Delphine ducked out the way, leaving Helena’s fist with a clear trajectory straight into Tony’s beautiful face.

 

* * *

 

Way up at the front of the bus, Rachel Duncan was sat alone with her hands folded neatly in her lap. The entire trip had been a nightmare so far, especially at the beginning when her choice of seating had been thrown into question by none other than Sarah Manning.

 

_(STOMP. STOMP. STOMP._

_Sarah was the second clone onto the bus. The first had been Rachel, who Sarah couldn’t help but notice had made the infuriating choice of sitting directly at the front. There were acres of empty seats all along the bus aisle. Rachel would’ve been spoilt for choice – could’ve had any of them – could’ve had the backseat. But no, instead, there she was sat at the front with her stupid haircut and stupid eyepatch and stupid white, crisp fitted business dress._

_“The front seat?” Sarah demanded furiously, “You get the whole bus and you choose the front seat, yeah?”_

_“It has the greatest vantage point in terms of windows,” Rachel Duncan replied pleasantly._

_Sarah Manning had never been so mad in her life.)_

 

Rachel had endured it all. The taunts from the back of the bus where Sarah had buddied up with Tony (they made for an insufferable duo), the jeers, the yelling, the jellybabies being thrown in her direction. She’d had to close her eye, take calming breaths – she’d even had to distract herself by attempting to speak with Alison at one drastic point, though this had gone about as well as could be hoped.

 

_(“Do you…come here often?” Rachel Duncan asked robotically, as if it was something she had heard people say on television, as if it was something she was trying to test out herself._

_Alison Hendrix whipped her head around at the speed of light, all sweat and anger and a death grip on the wheel. “I hope to never drive a bus with these…lunatics again!” She seethed thorough grit teeth. “This is torture.”_

_“Yes, well,” Rachel replied coolly, turning her head to stare out the window, “The same thought sometimes crosses my mind when I have to sit through one of your musicals.”)_

 

However, nothing could quite compare to the full blown riot Rachel was currently hearing down the back of the bus. She debated whether to turn around and take a look – whether to honour the moment with her acknowledgement – and was just settling on a defiant ‘no’ when a glorious sound reached her ears.

 

“SESTRA, CAN YOU HEAR ME?! ARE YOU LIVINGS?”

 

An instinctive nostril flare of Victory, a delicate hand placed on the headrest of her seat as Rachel Duncan turned to gaze longingly down the aisle of the bus. What would await her? Sarah’s lifeless body sagging to the floor after an accidentally fatal blow to the head by Helena?  _Perhaps they would lock eyes as Rachel witnessed Sarah take her final breath-_

 

“Got ‘ya, meathead!” Sarah roared, springing back into action and wrestling Helena into a hearty headlock, “Take more than your bloody dance moves to kill me off!”

 

There was laughter. A strange whooping noise from Helena that signalled _great joy_ as the dancing tussle began again. Rachel Duncan surveyed the wild brawl taking place down the bus with an astonishing level of silent contempt only she could muster. _Years and years and years. Two whole lives dedicated to cloning research._ That’s what her mother and father had given to this project.

 

_And that didn’t even begin to cover what they had sacrificed._

 

Rachel’s one eye gave a slow blink as she scanned over every small detail of the scene.

 

Helena, with two fingers jammed aggressively up Sarah’s nostrils. Sarah, yelling loudly, two arms wrapped tightly around Helena’s midriff as she hopelessly tried to wrestle her dancing limbs away from their newest target. Tony, hollering indignantly, trying manically to keep Helena’s wild kicking feet at bay. Cosima, gawkily falling off her seat amidst the chaos, one arm awkwardly entangled in her own dreadlocks. Delphine, protectively attempting to catch Cosima and pull her back to safety, only to get far too caught up in the moment and fall with her.

 

The words of Robert Frost floated uninvited into Rachel’s mind:

 

_In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learnt about life – it goes on._

 

At this present moment in time, Rachel Duncan very much wished it wouldn’t.

 

* * *

 

“And like, how am I even _meant_ to pitch a tent with these nails?” Krystal Goderitch lamented, presenting them to M.K. with no small amount of pride, “I mean, I’m a professional, they’ll survive through like…wars or something but pitching tents and making campfires? That’s a whole other ballgame-”

 

M.K. was trying desperately hard to listen to what Krystal was saying. She seemed nice after all, very chatty and friendly, and she’d taken the seat beside her before they’d set off and handed M.K. a bottle of ‘sparkling lemon water’ for the ride. M.K. wasn’t a fan of the drink – thinking it was a peculiar choice when actual lemonade existed in the world – but Krystal’s intentions were good and pure so she’d twisted off the bottle cap and started taking tentative sips throughout the journey. Krystal, meanwhile, had been talking.

 

Endlessly.

 

And it was proving very difficult to keep up.

 

First it was about her hair and how it would cope if it rained, then Krystal had feared for her spray tan and told M.K. she would benefit from having a spray tan herself, not to mention a new hairstyle and some makeup tips (which Krystal would offer for free of course) and then the topic had shifted to footwear and whether Krystal’s heels would cope in the mud or whether she should change into her trainers – in fact, maybe she should change altogether? A crop top and shorts definitely seemed like a better choice, right?

 

And so M.K. had been put in the highly flustered position of sitting awkwardly next to Krystal Goderitch as the blonde stripped in her seat and changed clothes.

 

As if this hadn’t caused quite enough panic for the newest clone, Helena had suddenly peered over the back of their seats and stared deeply into M.K’s eyes as Krystal’s clothes went flying.

 

“Do you have Sugar, Sugar?”

 

“D-Do I have…what?”

 

“Honey, honey.”

 

A long, desperate pause in which M.K. considered whether it would be too impolite to open the passenger window and jump out of it.

 

“Candy girl,” Helena said slowly, pointing to the headphones in M.K’s lap, “It is my favourite song.”

 

“O-oh!” M.K. said - feeling as though she had crossed some grand gulf, some supremely large canyon, some colossal void, a great coral reef of a language barrier – “Yes, all my songs are in here. I like that one too.”

 

Helena had beamed broadly at this news and begun bouncing slightly in her seat. “I like to dance to it. I sang it with Sarah once when we went on road trip.”

 

“That’s nice,” M.K. said politely.

 

“I was in jail not long after.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I lost my boyfriend that day,” Helena said sombrely, “but I still have sestra.”

 

M.K. had been unable to move as Helena leant over the seat and took the headphones, jamming them aggressively onto her head and flicking every button on them she could find.

 

“Thank you, sheep-sestra,” Helena had said courteously before slinking back into her own seat.

 

“…That’s ok,” M.K. replied quietly a few seconds later, feeling very lost all of a sudden.

 

And then:

 

“I am _totally_ in a tangle,” Krystal said, arms twisted halfway out a peach coloured top, “can you, like, unhook my bra? I think a strap got caught on a button somewhere.”

 

M.K. stared in horror at Krystal.

 

Krystal stared pointedly at M.K.

 

“…O-Ok,” M.K. had said, thinking this house-share experiment was _nothing_ like Aldous Leekie had described it to be.

 

* * *

 

In fact, Leekie was having similar thoughts himself as he watched the ongoing shenanigans from a computer screen in the DYAD Institute. The bus had been set up with a CCTV camera, of course, and Leekie had been raving to Marion Bowles about the fantastic interactions they would get to monitor all day.

 

Now, sadly, reality seemed to be paling in comparison to his dreams.

 

“Is Krystal…topless?” Marion questioned exasperatedly from beside Leekie as they reviewed the footage.

 

“I, uh…” Leekie began awkwardly, wringing his wrists, “yes, well, it’s an interesting relationship developing…between herself and Veera-”

 

“Veera looks like she has shell-shock.”

 

“Yes…I…as I said…very interesting.”

 

Marion glowered at the computer screen.

 

Helena was dancing and had just accidentally punched Tony in the face.

 

Marion glowered at Aldous.

 

Aldous gave a nervous laugh and silently prayed for his life.

 

* * *

 

“It’s not like official, but as I said, I think you’d have to be some kind of idiot to think I was lying. They can definitely understand me.”

 

“…Rabbits?”

 

“Yeah, like wild or someone’s pet, it doesn’t matter. My friend Alicia, who is a massive bitch by the way like she slept with my ex-boyfriend on my birthday – but anyway – she had a pet rabbit and I told it to roll over once and it did. And then every time I visited afterwards, it would always roll over when it saw me. Science your way out of that one, Tom Cruise.”

 

“Tom…Cruise?” M.K. questioned, sounding as though she was suffering through great mental trauma.

 

“Yeah, he’s like the chief of Scientology,” Krystal said, as if it was obvious, “Where have you been? Like living under a rock?”

 

Things had not gotten any easier for M.K. during this bus journey and had now, suddenly, dropped to an all-time low. She couldn’t even process what had just been said, try as she might, and Cosima – who was currently lying haphazardly on the aisle floor with Delphine – seemed to be having similar problems.

 

“Oh dude…there are so many things wrong with that sentence I don’t know where to begin.”

 

“It’s not my fault you don’t keep up with current affairs, ok?” Krystal retorted.

 

Cosima looked as though she was going to reply but then thought better of it and simply gave a roll of the eyes to M.K. instead. M.K. smiled back, thinking that perhaps this Cosima clone might not be as… _much_ to take in as the others.

 

And then, suddenly:

 

“Puppy, you still wanna try and fit that fire extinguisher on my skateboard and see if it works like a rocket?”

 

“Only if we trick Sarah into using it,” Delphine replied with a mischievous smile.

 

“You’re on.”

 

The two scrambled to get Cosima’s skateboard down from the overhead luggage. M.K’s smile faded as fast as her will to live as Krystal turned to her again and said, in complete seriousness, “I think I can speak to eggs as well.”

 

* * *

 

It was only an hour later that a slightly drunk Sarah (who had been binging on beer with Tony for most of the journey) took up position on a heavily modified skateboard at the back of the bus.

 

“You sure this thing’s legit?” Sarah asked through a haze of alcohol.

 

“Yeah, totally, it should work like a normal skateboard. I just need to monitor someone else’s movement on it before I make the final…adjustments,” Cosima replied with a glint in her eyes. Delphine looked positively menacing behind her.

 

“Alright, alright, you big nerd…you ready? I don’t want to have to do this twice, yeah?” Sarah said, already looking a little unsteady on the board.

 

“Gotcha,” Cosima said, “On your marks…get set…go!”

 

A quick kick to the fire extinguisher at the back of the board from Cosima. A sudden splutter and then burst into life from the extinguisher.

 

Cursing and yelling from Sarah as she was sent rocketing down the bus aisle and smashing into Rachel Duncan, who had peered around her seat at precisely the wrong second.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT TIME: Clone club arrive at their destination and suffer the trauma of pitching tents together.


End file.
